Wash Me New


I’ve come to sit in the quiet church
to let it all go

The statues and flowers keep me silent company
while upstairs a group of children
sings joyfully to a guitar


There is a giant baptismal font
still filled with holy water from Easter
I want to climb in it and float on my back
staring at the ceiling
like I used to stare at the sky
floating in the lake when I was young

Until all the bitter colours are washed out of me
the blaring colours of anger, fear, resentment, regret…
bleeding out until I am pure white

Empty of everything
but an overwhelming gratitude
for the present moment

Remembering I am a creature
a recipient of endless gifts
my life–each day–a miracle


I don’t need to grip the ropes so tightly
to control the sails
I don’t have to see everything
from the crow’s nest
and constantly consult the map

The real map is in bigger hands
better hands
wiser hands


I don’t need to understand everything

I can lean back
close my eyes and smile
as the salt breeze mixes with my salty tears

Let the sound of the waves
lull me into a place of peace

so I can see this voyage
as a mysterious adventure
and not a problem to be solved
a gift and not a burden


2 thoughts on “Wash Me New

    1. I’m so glad and honoured you took the time to read my poems! Thanks for repeatedly making my day! 🙂 I’ve been reading a few of your poems as well, in between bathing the toddler and navigating fort-building squabbles of the bigger kids, and have enjoyed them a lot!

      Liked by 1 person

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