The Soul Reader


My dreams are crushed.
My hopes are shattered. one by one.
New hopes emerge from God-knows-where.
I wish they wouldn't.
It still hurts when each one bites the dust.
Disappointment fills my days and won't subside at night.
This shell of who I once was should simply blow away,
Dust in a gusty wind: gone without comment.
But I have this dreadful gift keeping me alive:
To see the longing in their eyes,
To say the words that fill the void,
To feel their heartbreak and to know.
Acting swiftly, because delay eats the soul.
A hopeless satisfier of hopes,
A soul reader, if you will,
Forever granting assurance that someone loves them,
But only powered by living unloved.
Is it Heaven or Hell?
Surely it is both.
Is it miracle or despair?
Why must they be so inseparable?
And the preacher smiles.
He tells us us that we cannot give what we do not have ourselves.
We cannot reproduce what we are not.
And I laugh a joyless laugh,
Pondering the Jew
Who gave out life the day He died.

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This Poems Story

I am married to the love of my life. We have seven children who, on their worst days, are better than I could have imagined. Following Jesus, I'm slowly learning to love every person.