Turn and Return

Four a morning and one month
No wine to be found. 
Only dirt pouring from the cup
Right back to the ground

Fragments of a story unfolding 
Not awake but alive 
Drenched in sulfur and fire
Pull me out

Then You turn your face
Cast a shattering light 
Not to blind but to remind
You bring dust back to life





Picking Up Pieces 

It’s true. It broke again. I held, and held, and held on
To hope. For year, after year, after year. And then one more.
I’m disappointed and as I have learned, 
Disappointment leaves cracks in the soul. 
With cracks in my soul, and pieces of heart in my hand
I can only do what I was made for, and crawl back to Him. 





Look 

Look to the ocean and you will find
Peak after peak of waves
Like majestic mountains that build and crash
Far faster than a tectonic plate could provide 

Look to the skies and you will find
Endless blue that mimics the sea
Like an upside-down reflecting pool 
Wild clouds drift in the tides of the wind

Look to the forest you will find 
Much in common between
The trees and the meadow grass 
As both give sight to the invisible breeze 

Look to the heavens and you will find
All the universe was built
A perfect mirror to the face of God
Calling for mankind to see 

Faith McCormick has published fiction on 101 Words and elsewhere. As a stay-at-home mom,
she spends half of her day singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider,” then writes furiously during the sacred 2 PM nap.
Residing in Georgia, she enjoys endless sunny skies and lazy days by the Savannah River.