here I am,
poured out,
wasted,
spent and vulnerable,
kneeling at your feet,
wanting to
give my all for you,
knowing that somehow
entering into
your death will bring
me life
for you are the fountain
of life itself...
+
may the fragrance
of my prayer
remain about me
curling its scent
into every corner and crevice
of my being,
for in you
the scent of given-ness
and surrender
the scent of my death
is infused with your life
and I am free
+
here I am,
poured out,
wasted,
spent and vulnerable,
hoping that
in you
I might find myself,
and be made whole...
+
