He Meets Us in the Dark

For our lost one, miscarried this Easter

Empty.
A new twig on the tree
But no leaves budding,
Unfurling miniature fingers.
Spring has come,
But brittle branches
Stretch with barren stiffness
Poised for nothing?
This little limb meant more.
The ache of sap rises in my bones,
Leaks into tears, small sighs
For small deaths;
Not for what is,
But for what could have been.

Roots are for these days.
My wife and I delve deeply down
Dark and blind paths
Under earth, soul-roots thirsting
Seeking, crying for comfort
In half-finished prayers;
And before we are done
He meets us in the dark,
Wet with His tears
Shed on another tree,
Yes. He loves.
We drink sovereign stillness
And let our questions go,
Satisfied.


"...that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."
Ephesians 3:17-19