Crying Fool

God stirs up my guts,
knocking His big spoon against
the compassion-humility lump
that sits somewhere in the middle of me.
He breaks it into countless tears
working their way
through my doughy body.
Every tear touches the lifeless mixture
so I rise.

Such is the story of my life this far.

But through the surface of my full, rich life,
a thousand tears break.
I can't hold them in
because I've asked to be useful.
I don't know what will happen
once they've left me.
I do know that every groan
originates from and ascends to
a master of creative release who
empowers my ability to sustain and nurture
so that it actually
does
something
useful.
My deep quakes with the greatness of hope once again.

This is the story of His life through me.