4/27/09
This is my dowry. I am a wife, and my words are my proof of the paid bride-price. I write love because I am a lover. I have tried being not me, and it poisons. My words offer healing from my precious, God-beloved heart. He makes love to me through a sentence, a cadence, a sounded sound.
Behold your handmaid, Lord. You show Yourself off in Your wonderful handiwork, and I praise You for the me You made.
Ans here it is that I find I'm a kept woman. A beloved. A wife. A princess. A queen. God's temple and His handmaid. I will NEVER stop saying so.
Immersion
God can take a chord progression and baptize me in sound.
Imagine how it could be, a video of love and sound.
Candlelight in a dark room.
Not coupled, but dancing.
Not joined but connected.
And the camera moves around in a slow circle, never really below the shoulder.
Together and separate.
In the dark, but lit.
And then the fingertips rise and touch.
The crescendo is simply a gentle kiss of the hand to the hand.
Teresa Mother
To a past mothering
Teresa and friends were there
I was there too
It was 1996
Still engaged with
My sense of entitlement
And breaking out
Of my broken shell
We sang together
And ate together
And threw stuffed animals
In movie theaters together
She fed me more times than I could count
Denny's makes me
Think of her
I couldn't see
Her mothering of me
For the blessing that it was
And now that I am older
And consider that
Great time in my life
I see now
Her mothering of me
With words, song & prayer, TiMo
www.pmeqme.blogspot.com
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| Onward Looking
© Tiffany Monique February 2014
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