Fear
is the bookmark
Holding the place
Of all we are
meant to do
I’ve started to sing
What these pages bring
A sound that is brand new.
The butterfly’s
No longer too shy
To show her patterns divine
I give thanks to the breaks
That told me to wait
And held me till I came alive.
The mother who strokes
my hand sets me free
As I mutter the words,
I believe that Thee
enlighten the questions I posed as a child
While I learn about what grace is,
I tread the line between doing just fine
and knowing we all fall on our faces.
Emily Stern…… April 2007
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