Rest Oration

This is skin.
This is the beginning of vulnerable.
Healing—
the sting of cleansing,
the burn of antiseptic.

Refinement is fire
And blood, purification

To rest before You

is to arrive
naked
of my sorrows,
my stresses,
my fear.
Comfort
is only found
in weakness.

If brokenness

is peace,
I throw my mirrors
upon the temple floor
and kneel
into the shards, 
bleeding
before Your mercy seat.

Revive me

with incense,
Melchizedek—
Or I’ll only go back
into the black.

Yet, lead me into darkness

so I can see the Light

And there, I’ll find my rest