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his gifts

He told me his gifts were irrevocable

Why couldn’t I believe?

Ideas clutter my mind like books clutter my desk

Soft voices whisper through speakers

I sway,

eyes shut, just focusing on the one gift

the one wrapped in an old newspaper

tied with twine

Always sitting right in front of me.

The print leaves a black trail on my fingers

I turn the package in my hands


a bestowed gift, the moment we’re sharing now

I tear it open like a child

black and white text fluttering like snow and floating down to the floor

here it is

the now

his gift

his present

the present

His voices comes clear through the speaker

“enjoy it, it was made for you…

with love”

hushed voices take over, in song

I sway, eyes closed

falling in love with the moment


2 responses

  1. his gifts are eternal…

    i love that they were wrapped in newspaper.

    i love that you helped me sway too… and you drew me into your gratitude. beautiful prose, girl. xo

    September 24, 2010 at 6:15 am

  2. Each moment He gives is a gift of His grace. I sometimes have a hard time seeing this, due to illness. Thanks for the reminder.

    September 24, 2010 at 3:21 pm

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