grace on my tongue

Anxious bored and brittle
Lips cracked with darkling doubts
Ushered through with the dusty
Air of an ancient tomb.

Jesus wept, I remembered
So my thoughts crackled with
Hope pushing through my craven
Brain and cloven hoof.

If he can cry grace is real
And I will feel His tears dampen
My tongue so I can cry out
“Light conquers darkness after all!”

Maybe all that’s bright in me will
Fight and walk through the shadows
To disperse their clinging fears and
Shine like the morning star.