photo: Bethany Szentesi via Unsplash
A not admitting of the wound
Until it grew so wide
That all my Life had entered it
—Emily Dickinson
Sometimes grace looks like someone else saying "My heart. My heart. Is broken." Sometimes communion looks like holding hands and weeping together. Sometimes a miracle looks like a blue book about loss. Sometimes a saint looks like you.
My poem "Our Lady of Desperation," out now in the first issue of OCEANS & TIME, is about all of this. The blessing of shared vulnerability. The beauty in admitting the wound.
Until it grew so wide
That all my Life had entered it
—Emily Dickinson
Sometimes grace looks like someone else saying "My heart. My heart. Is broken." Sometimes communion looks like holding hands and weeping together. Sometimes a miracle looks like a blue book about loss. Sometimes a saint looks like you.
My poem "Our Lady of Desperation," out now in the first issue of OCEANS & TIME, is about all of this. The blessing of shared vulnerability. The beauty in admitting the wound.
