Strings

We woke to a nightmare of dangling limbs
In a colorless glow of perpetual dusk
Some of the time we were dancing for them
The rest of the time we were gathering dust

Blindsided when I first noticed your strings
I shouted at your wooden ears, "It's not true!"
But I had to fall to the stage to believe
My hands and my knees were as wooden as you

Slumped on the shelf like a pile of rocks
All of my joints and my hinges revealed
I called for the one who first taught me to walk
And asked nothing less than at last to be real


1 Thessalonians 2:4   Our purpose is to please God, not people. He alone examines the motives of our hearts.