Something arriving:
a thing that’s been sworn
to the brokenness in me,
to the ashes and thorns.
I’ve waited and cursed,
stuck in this line.
Something is coming
kind of on time.
I’m sensing it near.
No longer the stall.
Something arriving
in glory and all.
It’s also a calmness
and tenderness too,
tinged with a wrath
—I’m collecting what’s due.
It’s that sweet, subtle fury
in the pluck of the chord.
Something is coming.
Finally, Lord.
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