*This poem is brought to you by La Bella Collaborative: Holiday Submissions!
**Photo by SHIRAZ HENRY on Unsplash

I learned resilience from her steady hands, even as waves break against her now.
I learned hope from her keen eyes,
even with no sight of land or relief.

God suffers with us.

She sees the world through stained glass contacts.
Stains color her sight & cloud her outside view but it’s the inside that counts.

Relics & dusty pews tell of a time when God felt as near as a father in a front row.
Now a dad states away might call on a birthday but can’t relate to the clouds,
even though his reign is what formed them.
Most days, a bed is her pulpit,
a shower, her sanctuary
but she still sees sights that make her smile
on the inside
where she counts down her days as if they were already over.
Each new one a gift.

She’s got so good at giving,
like breathing,
even though it’s getting harder.
It’s deliberate.

She’s a gift
few have dared to open,
even less have chosen to receive.
But awareness doesn’t determine worth.

So sit through the service,
revel in its reverence.

A stack of cards
meant to pierce your heart.
A picture of blood & water.

– Brittany Hartman-King

Brittany Hartman-King is the program director for The COVE Art Center in Pittsburgh, PA; Small business owner of Clavicle Havoc; & a multidisciplinary artist. If you’d like to see more from this featured poet, you can connect with Brittany at any of the links below:
Instagram: @clavicle_havoc or @the_novelty_collective
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheNoveltyCollective

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