By Megan Inwards
They’ve taken your word
And fashioned it into a sword
That they hand to me
To point at my own heart.
But I have beaten it into a plowshare.
With it I break the hard ground
And I plant seeds of wheat
And water them with my tears.
When summer comes
The crop grows tall.
In fall I will invite them.
We can harvest
And bake bread
And eat together
And remember our hurts no more.
© Megan Inwards, 2023 - For permission to repost, please contact admin@loveboldly.net.
Megan Inwards (she/her/hers) is a poet and Queer Christian. You can find her work on Instagram at @wonderfullyqueerlymade and @meganinwards.
Comments