My Someone who Means Everything

I fall apart at the seams,
of a garment sewn haphazardly.
My legs break beneath the weight,
of a table built by child's play.

steel bends when chemicals don't mix precisely.
my stomach ties in knots when opportunities turn to expectations.
fire dies when the wood is soaked from morning dew,
but the flicker gives me hope of a dry land I once knew.

music has no sweet melody,
the notes are flat as a mesa that I stand upon,
staring down into the abyss.
the notes are as sharp as the jagged rocks,
glaring up at me with harsh cackles...
waiting for my fall.

my heart beats dimly inside a hollow chest,
a treasure chest with jewels that mean nothing to anyone.
I want it to mean something to somebody.
anything to everyone...
Everything to Someone.

Am I searching too deep?
The wheels turn without acceleration...
I long to feel the breeze slide over my face
and through my hair.
I long to see the invisible love of Christ
in a child's grinning profile.
I long to physically see the spiritual embrace
of God in a broken marriage.
I long to hear the unheard whisper of Jesus
in a war-torn country who has never witnessed hope.

But I fall apart when I am sewn up by my own hands.
My needle breaks and the string splinters at touch.
I want Him to be my someone,
to fill my hollow chest of doubt with
beautiful wild flowers, that never wither.
I fall to my knees knowing Jesus is that only someone who
means anything to this no one.
Who makes me something in His Everything way.


Emily Welch 11/14/09