Over and over I was laid
Where each of his fingers stayed.
My velvet-skin was bruised,
As his apathy ravaged the truth.
Like a wolf devours its prey,
With narry a thought of me at all,
his teeth scraped and tore
And with final flick -- now absent core
Am so tossed as a pit to the ground.
Father passed through the orchard
With no harsh words or foul intent,
His infant medicine did soothe.
My core tingled in His delight
And timid arms waved in sun’s light.
Unsteady feet find a new purpose
And a tender anchor is found.
I stretch as if from patient slumber
Steady and true, new life grows.
Straight to the skies my joy shows.
Fresh, anew, redeemed for Another.
The wolves are forgotten.
Nowhere near do they tread.
How blessed I am, to find
All my beauty held as treasure within.
