Jump to content
Attention, CICADA community!
  • It’s time to say goodbye—the community at cicadamag.com is now closed. Learn more...

Recommended Posts

He began playing the harp and I said, “Jesus, can’t you tell my heart
hurts enough?” Snapping cords within his fist until beautiful music
starts sounding like our banging doors. It’s like that time I loved you so
much I promised to never love you again. Had me begging on my
knees looking up asking, “Jesus, you have got to let me be for awhile
because my grace isn’t holding up down here right now.” Wondering
how many strings we can retether before the whole instrument falls
apart and we’ll start praying for a new one.

Watch the it pour over
The sink to the tiled floor and
Ask just one more time if harps
Are supposed to sound like falling angels

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites