Brave Hart

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When your Maker is your husband.

Your body is your own.

That’s the difference between lonely,

And being on your own.

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I am a single half

Of one entire whole,

But I am completely full

Like an overflowing bowl.

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Hunger can be harnessed.

A fasting stomach without food

Steadies the rock of its soul

Against the weather of its mood.

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How can I be holy,

If there are no holes to fill me?

How can I gain life,

If I do not face death fully?

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Pain is rampant in the flesh,

An ever-whelming tide.

I place my hull down in its current.

It drives me in its ride

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To the raging, riotous Jordan

To beach its brutal banks

To charge up on its incline

And pass the weaker ranks.

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So fight not like one who beats the air.

The burning lung is welcome.

Discipline or be disqualified.

Si vis pacem, para bellum.

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My wings – they burn to fly

Above the dead burying their dead

My feet – they cannot stick to earth

My home is up ahead.

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Look! The hinds feet

mount the high places

Where the brave harts

grace the rock faces.

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True: we get one life to live,

But also one death to die

And I will not lose my heart,

As I say my last goodbye.

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Alone is lonely

But alone is free

When you are the captain of your ship

In God’s ungovernable sea.

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