I could never do that I’d get to attached
With a depth of belly and an eye like Charles Loring Brace I stoop
I pick up these nuggets of pain, joy, sorrow and rejoicing.
They squirm, sometimes they scream and turn red-faced.
There are no orphanages in America we dismantled them.
Now all the parts are in our homes or drifting in the wind.
Accept the wind can not carry them. They are heavy
Full of history, full to the brim with future.
I elected to have a heavy heart the day I married
My wife has needy children running in her veins from birth
God transfused them into me.
They run thick in my veins I pump them through my body, never able to say no.
What is a heart anyway, a pump?
Keeping me alive? Am I not animated by purpose?
I saw the veins of light the threads of reality
I saw Gods truth, I saw the chief end of man.
A heart is a hold, a vault, a garden.
I planted seeds of God’s words
I sought his glory and when I looked up
Children needy, hungry, broken
I accepted them as gifts
I keep them there where the blood flows
Where the sadness and joy meet
Where they erupt in prayer and fulfilled will
My heart is heavy and will be heavier
I will fill it with more of God more of his creations
I am attached I call them mine even when they are not.
My heart is heavy, a beautiful burden.
Also published on Medium.