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Tuesday, November 17, 2009


Poetry from 53A

Motes of dust on specks of sand
joined as shoreline of land
waiting at the water’s edge of God's mercy,
our gathering place.

Alone, I am, in this gathering place.
My sin my own, an offense not to be compared to any other's.
All insult of sin so great, a rejection of God's friendship,
infinite goodness and grace.

Feeling love for Him, how could I not love myself?
Neither is possible alone.
Loving patience, forgiving and infinite -
His only demand? Embrace good, reject evil.

White room, adorned in nothingness, becomes my slate,
my learning place, of recognition.
Sins un-recounted, forgiveness a plea. Accepting God's mercy,
we unwrap His gift of our uniqueness.

Mote on dust -
Dust on sand grain -
Grain in a sea of sand grains -
Alone but known
and, heard.


  1. Being heard, so important, so important.

  2. What a way you have with metaphors, Annie!
    Poetry is all about just the right word, isn't it? You seem to have found them all.
    'Contrition' is lovely.

  3. i am not religious in a certain sense but your words transcend that. i know full well what it feels like to feel alone and lost and you've drawn that so well. and i also know what it's like to find myself and you've drawn that so well too.

    sharing something raw and deep is a real gift. thank you, annie.


  4. Thank you KJ. Though I am religious in the traditional sense, I also believe that faith transcends differences and unites us.

    Dear Linda - words are like paint brushes for me. I always hope to create a picture that anyone can see and appreciate and feel.

    Dear Debra - Being heard indeed - most important. I may not always like what I hear but it IS an answer.

    I appreciate all of your kind words and hope to post more of my work here.

  5. Annie, I am looking forward to more! I love to read poetry; I wish I could write it myself, but the words won't come. You have a gift!