silversmithing

 

"a woman holding a mystery" by caitlin connolly

 

 

your turn.

 

i come unwillingly

to the fire.

 

i hold onto my weaknesses tightly

trying to keep them from the flame.

my hands shake

as i hold them

over my head.

 

i am silver

cold

heavy.

metal,

unrefined.

 

it's hot

and uncomfortable

in the fire

holding on to my weaknesses,

trying to save

rather than surrender them.

 

i close my eyes

and see orange and red through my thin lids

i breathe through the pain

and feel His hand steady me there

His silhouette imprinted.

 

now that my voice is quiet

i can hear His.

 

almost there.

i see it now,

the burden i have been carrying,

dross.

 

fear crinkles and disappears at it is dropped.

distrust falls from my burden

anger's  heavy load rolls across the coals and sinks, smoldering. 

 

 

my arms free

 

i stay in the fire

working on

forgiveness,

and

trust.

patience takes a long time.

 

 

He holds me

over the fire

He must stay with me

as i am created. 

watching

waiting.

 

He holds me

through the hurt.

 

my burdens will not stand

the heat

of the fire.

 

i beg to be let out

 i'm done

 

i do not hear His answer

through the whisper of the flame

the coals before my feet.

 

He stays

the silver would be ruined

taken out too soon

or too late.

 

He stays

through my discomfort

my pain

my refining.

 

and so,

finally

i surrender to the flames.

until the the dross is gone,

separating

from my most precious bits.

 

He waits

pulling me out

checking.

 

not yet

i hear the whisper now

as He

turns me this way and that.

 

until

finally

He sees

Himself

reflected 

in 

me. 

 

a mirror.

 

now

He sighs

it is done. 

 

and i leave the flames,

a creation

of the 

silversmith.

a stamp,

unnecessary,

 

 

His image in mine. 

 

Comments

[Sarah jones]

Absolutely Beautiful! Love it!

[Olivia]

Beautiful. Perfectly captured. Genius.