I wrote this poem the second day of Training Camp, during worship time. I remember feeling this intense need to just get down on my knees and let the song and the voices of my fellow racers wash over me. It was a beautiful few minutes, and by the end of the song I had a little puddle of tears down on the floor between my knees. These words just came tumbling out of my pen, spilling onto the paper, gasping for the page like a drowning man gasps for air. I wanted to share them with you…and You.
I found you in a puddle of tears.
Mine own,
Shed like blood from a wound
Dripping from my eyes, salty with significance.
Not like the earthquake or the storm or the fire
But like the quiet whisper, the still small voice
Beckoning me onward, sinking vessel though I am,
Unworthy of sailing your waters
Or carrying your passengers.
But.
I sail still, carry still.
Floating on my puddle of tears.
