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The White Stone by Kathleen Higham Often as I walk the shore My mind retrieves my past The painful memories of a life My first thoughts, then my last. It seems I always go there Punish myself with grief Praying to God to heal me Sustain my deep belief. Still, here I am walking Thoughts betray this mind Of course, my wicked body Does the same in kind. Lord, I am getting older This should pass me by Yet, it lingers, lingers. I can not fathom why. Praying for a simple sign Let my life become pure I am so, so tired Lord My weakness, hard to endure. Was it love, or maybe not Why do I remain the same? Lost in this hurtful memory Oh, how I grieve the shame. Seeing a letter in my mind I want to burn the lie Watch the lines folding in Flaming embers to the sky. Lord, I beg you, take it My tears fall in the night Morning comes, I'm walking I see a stone, immaculately white. Reaching down, I pick it up Then hold it to my breast A gift, Your arms around me My face pressed to Your chest. Oh my God, my Savior I inhale You, then I know A sign from You, behold it The stone, I shan't let go. |
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Please contact Kathleen Higham at "kathleenhigham@yahoo.com" to request permission to use this poem.