A Glimpse

a vision of a pathway,
a door creaking open slowly,
revealing another room,
a wardrobe hiding an adventure.


I strain my eyes, squinting hard to see- 


light,
purpose,
hope,
glory.


through the fog of inconsistency,
the vague mysteries that feed doubt, I squint....


as night gives way to the rising sun, 
as rain gives way to a clearer sky, 
as stones and dirt give way to erupting flowers, 
as bitterness gives way to a forgiving touch- 
softening


so shall I....


Your glory will bloom in me. 
Your purpose will be revealed- snow and ice melting
At Your roar, 
the broken pieces of my heart will be held in the scarred pits of your hands.


So be it.




 - Johnna Bullard 
3/29/11




"A poem ends in a clarification of life- a momentary stay against confusion"- Robert Frost