Scales

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Scales

I’d much rather take my pen and paper, my abstract mind, my struggling poetic voice over to the school of fish.

I’d find more peace, though it may be rough and smelly, navel-gazing with the fish,  their coats of small shining shards of fish fashion. The blues and greens and browns sewn on like a quilt of slimy mosaic, smelling of the sea.

Like a stained glass of small cut pieces, the whole is more telling than a microcosm of the total package.

I’d rather meditate and pontificate on the scales which can hurt a girl’s hands rather than the other ones that have hurt girls’ hearts.

Not the ones that society would do well to just plain do without.

Throw the scales out with the bathwater.

Not the ones that bind and shackle, tease and taunt, tell a number, a false gauge of worth.

Not the heavy object that pulls to itself, power-grabber, as a magnet, calling out in a weighing heavy metal empty whisper, from the floor, wielding power it’s stolen from the true granter of worth and praise.

Take the scales off my eyes, that blind me when I try to see, Truth, is not a number.

Remove the scales, deadskin flaking, keeps me from true beauty.

Give me beauty, true, blues and greens on the fish that swims so free, in its coat of many colors, allowing it to blend into the beautiful, blend into the sea.

Wearing proudly the scales designed, meticulous

By the Hands of One,

Who sets the captives free.

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Writing on the concrete helps us understand the abstract. And Amber Haines does it as well as anyone I know. She’s got a great little community of writers writing on scale today. I am there too.

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Scales.

And I am joining Laura at The Wellspring.

And joining Ann at A Holy Experience, though I am quietly walking through my up and down again counting. Lord, give me a disciplined heart for seeing your gifts.

(Photo courtesy of Pam Wooten)

The Necklace

It was gold. It was a circular, pliable, bendable, wire.

It still is.

He purchased it on our trip. The one we took the day after we stood before the robed one and said, forever, we do. And there were hundreds there. And really the One who matters the most, the Most High. He was there.

He still is.

Today is always a new mercy morning. This one is our twenty four year mark. Of being linked and bendable and pliable. And tomorrow will be a new mercy morning. And the portal into the quarter century mark on a conjoined life.

It has held much, the wire. It has been to weddings and funerals and celebrations and church. On it has been threaded pearls and coins. An octopus and a turtle have hung from there too.

And there was the coin from the bottom of the sea with the cross, raised you can run your fingers over and touch the trinity, or is  it deep-grooved recessed. Or is it both. Around the neck on the wire, it is heavy and it is large, but it is beautiful. Hammered encircling the coin, on the wire, the others, the dolphin, the seahorse, the sealife, the handwrought others.

And it, like the wire was a gift. From the Patient One who is here. And doing life and loving sweet, tender, deep, and gentle.

And bearing, like the wired gold treasure.

Who dripped sweat from his brow the day we said the vows and still does. Because of all the work. Long days. Long weeks. Laboring in love.

And of all the things we’ve lost, many and much that was lost. But not missed. There is no lacking. There is no want or need. Really.

We never lost the gold circuitous wire.

The one that holds the things. The one that she wears.

The one he gave in love.

And it is strong and weight-bearing. Capable of holding the delicate and the heavy.

A slim gold wire. always marking the early on. Always marking the continuity of the continuous conjoined love.

Wrapping around the neck, in love. Gold. Worthy of a gift to the stable. Given by a wise man.

Bending, not breaking. And holding treasures.

Always. At least we have today.

And the words we said before the Holy One infront of the robed one and the hundreds, they echo sacred, they echo soft. And two gold rings wrapped around, in love.

Twenty four years ago today. The glorious day we have, in love.

This is a post written with Amber and a community of writers on the one word prompt necklace.

Counting gifts, hopefully forever, but at least for today:

Marriage, twenty four years.
A doctor’s visit with a child that will lead to change… it looks promising, it looks good.
A night of celebrating, its all up in the air, its all good.
A night with all three kiddos home… rare and welcome…makes my momma heart soar.
A long talk with my momma after she left the hospital. It was so very long & wonderful.
The sun is shining bright though they’ve called for rain.
Time with the man/child in our bedroom right before we fall asleep. Precious.
Plans are made to be with friends a long way away for a wedding. Joy.
Laughter and open lines of communication with a child.
The kindest comments from the kindest readers any blogger could wish for.
New friends.
Wonderful time on the river. Beautiful friends. Beautiful day. A long boat ride to a yummy burger.

And linking too with Ann for Multitudes on Mondays and Michelle at Michelle DeRusha dot com. And Laura for Playdates. And with Jen at SDG

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