No Words Remain

I took a stick of chalk and I drew a line in the blackness.

I thought it would stave away the beast of fear.

I constructed my walls of protection without a second thought,

But it was you who I barred out.

So while I wrestled with fear and grappled with emptiness,

I knew that I was drowning in emotion, like a sailor lost at sea,

The lighthouse of hope was there, but I couldn’t bear to open my eyes,

Because I was dying and I have always been a coward to death.

But my line faded and smudged,

My walls crumbled in the aftermath of the storm,

And I fell to my knees in utter despair,

Because I had lost the fight.

I awoke armed with a blessing.

A promise that you whispered into my ear before I lost consciousness,

I will never leave you nor forsake you.

And I jumped to my feet, ready to fight,

But the battle was already won.

I looked out over a field of wildflowers, showing where you had tread,

They shone like gold, and with eyes burning with hope, I turned,

To catch a glimpse of your back side, or to touch the fringe of your robe,

To see with my doubting eyes that you are going to keep your promise—

Oh faithless heart, behold the cross.

I dropped the stick of chalk, because blackness is no more.

I let go of my life, because death is gone.

I put my hands on rugged grace, with its splinters and its bloodstains,

Tracing the curve of the words of the prophets,

That all proclaimed without a doubt who you are,

Did not see fulfillment, but knew that the word of the Lord would stand beyond forever.

You do not change, you do not change.

How can I doubt that?

For you declared the end of the Book of Death with a ragged last breath,

It is finished.

And no words remain.