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POETRY

“All Spins Inward,” read by Ericka Clay.

All Spins Inward

I guess all I can tell you is the way
I’ve seen a grown man cry
Then his face go dry when he up
And leaves his family.

And then the way her heart
Gave way when the only love
She ever knew grew so tired
He slept in another’s bed.

And all the children who grow
Old and out of touch and can
No longer feel that wonder
God planted beneath the earthy
Beat of their hearts.

And how an angry soul
Loses it all and out it comes
On the only one who ever
Thinks to call anymore.

But then He pauses,
Pushes reverse,
And all spins inward
Like thread on its spool —
The man dies, but the family heals,
The love leaves, but the woman thrives,
The children grow but their hearts still beat
And the angry soul takes it all back
While the only one who ever thought to call
Still never misses the chance to dial.

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“Like Touching Stardust,” read by Ericka Clay.

Like Touching Stardust

I read a book the other
Day about a mother
Who loved her daughter
But you’d never really
Know it.

And how human is it,
To watch that buried love
Hobble along each generation,
Falling down, twisting an ankle
And never truly making it
To its final destination.

I’ve heard that word all my life,
Repentance,
And never knew it was worth
More than a million bucks,
A lifelong marriage,
Two and a half kids
And a Caddy in the garage.

It’s like touching stardust
Or looking into the eyes of God,
Or finally breaking bone
And unburying that buried love,
Offering it as a gift even if
Your own hands were never
Even offered it at all.

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“The Only One Staring Back,” read by Ericka Clay.

The Only One Staring Back

By all means, go seek
the sound
of all things holy
but have a heart
that fingers and pulls
at its own righteousness,
removing layer by layer
the terrain of privilege,
and bad religion,
and following the crowd,
and laughing a little
too hard at the wrong
jokes just to fit in,
and the time you
considered a world
without you in it
so that you can see
the woman in front
of you, tears in her
eyes, pleading
with Jesus, especially
when you’re
the only one
staring back.

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Ericka Clay is a published novelist and poet. As a former atheist turned believer, she seeks to write raw, real, relatable books with a heart for Jesus. She released her latest novel, A Bird Alone, in January of this year. You can learn more about Ericka at erickaclay.com.

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Image: Whirlpool by Gordon Wrigley, CC BY 2.0, via Flickr.com. Modified by Veronica McDonald.