Poetical Interlude

hopeless to hide

did I think that he who made me, who saved me, who walks with me would not see me?

did I think the view from my heart's temple was so limited?

poor unswept place though it be, I invited him in

did I not think he came?

hopeless to play the lesser Eve and suggest that he is unaware

that he needs telling

I sinned

again.

and he knows.

and it hurts that he knows because I begged and I wept and I tried and he loved and he forgave

and if I sin

again

is it cheapened?

lessened?

can he really mean to forgive me again?

well.

he said he would.

I don't want this pattern of sin sin sin and sin again.

I hate it from the core of my being, with every fiber of my will

(and it must be my will, for my nature craves it ― does not want to relinquish forbidden fruits)

but forgiveness

this other half of the pattern

that

I cannot live without.

and if I know that he sees my every sin

and that there can be no concealment and no escape

then what am I hiding from in the end?

what part of the pattern is evaded?

only the forgiveness

and the peace

and the hope that this time

there will be victory

and who would hide from hope?

well, me.

but no more.

so, Lord, it's me again…