Kernels of Truth
Pass me some Jesus words please.
How about the ones lying like kernels
in the bottom of a popcorn bowl?
The little seeds hard enough to break
an ego like a tooth.
“Come unto me.”
All the heavy butter glazed on my fingers.
The exploded grenades like cumulus
clouds have disappeared by the hand full
as I watched life like a movie.
“Be not afraid.”
Sifting the bowl like a panhandler
more and more hard polished words
role around golden like a rule.
Butter fingers plucking tightly
one at a time.
“What do you want?”
Amaized at the possibilities
of these seeds falling into my soul
and dying, I welcome the broken
casing pealed back by grace and truth.
GAB June 2010