Between us

With each secret, I layer another veil

between my heart and God. Of course,

I can't hide anything from God, as hard as I try,

whether it's the meat I'm not meant to eat

these weeks of Lent, or the small hate I hold

tight, unwilling to let loose into love--or at least,

understanding. There's so much I don't understand--

why my father loved so strangely, the storms in my chest,

a President want to war, and the notebooks

I found in family storage. So much history,

so many tangles in my current brain--it hurts and I lash

out, I slam my hand down with a crash.

I do this behind closed doors, but there's no

door wide or thick enough that God can't get in--

and when my rages come to rest, and rest turns to sleep,

against all my efforts, then I'm steeped in His rushes of love.