Shrapnel

The gift of life is my daily blessing -- the morning glory that brings joy as I open my eyes each day. Yet, I remember dark moments when both pain and weariness flooded the moor below my little redoubt upon the crag; what became an island in a sea of sorrows and shadows. In that cold, dark place, I heard only the whining of winter winds, felt only the icy touch of darkness, and saw only the blackest veil of the abyss.

This was momentarily my world: Until a tiny whisper in the darkness silenced the winds. Until the fiery touch of Heaven's grace warmed my soul. Until the darkling veil was shred by love's golden gift, shattering my dark study and showing me the path home across that sea of sorrows and shadows, to rest finally in healing hands, upon a bright and precious coast. It was the prayers, wishes, and good thoughts of friends, family, and more -- that brought me home to that happy shore.

Mick

Shrapnel

Chuffed at the gift of yet another day,
Unconcerned about the overmorrow,
I bask in the grace that showed me the way
Home, across a silent sea of sorrow.
We think we traverse our paths alone,
To search for solace in patches of sun.
And yet, when I stumble on root or stone,
Strong arms catch me, set me upright, to run;
Should my short, sweet life be torn asunder,
And shadows, the shrapnel of loss, be cast
Among those I love, a silent thunder --
Rending veil and valor -- present to past.
I grasp God's gift, hold it tight, never cease:
'Til my shrapnel be shards of light and peace.

Mick McKellar
January 2013