all things in the morning will shine again for you
though every path seems useless
and almost nothing true
though with your heart unevenly
you try to see things through
and what you make with your own hands
every tide comes through.
still all things in the morning will shine again for you
and all that's latticed one day
will open to the dew.
and everything will bloom
and winter will not be
nor thorns nor endless curses
nor ships lost on the sea.
and weeping in a land of drought
will never never be
the way it was before you learned
there is a God that bleeds
for each and every lost thing
and every single wound.
and you will find the morning
and not the dread of tombs.
mary angela douglas 26 september 2019
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