I never saw her
eyes wander-
or judge.
They were steady
with trust.
And I trusted her.
Faith.
Love.
Joy.
They became her.
They were her clothing,
and I was her friend.
I need to trust her now
that the dice have been rolled
and it feels like gambling-
but it's not.
She just loves
so many people,
different than me,
distant from me.
And when
the distance
widens
the love
widens
too?
2 comments:
Leota. My mind runs to _Leota's Garden_, by Francine Rivers. I have no idea if you have been reading that book or not, and it has been so long I don't even remember it, but I remember an old woman, and I remember love. I remember feeling love. So it is with Leota. Love covers the multitudes.
Different Leota, but same love. :)
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