If the whole world were spinning
around you, a pin
I still think you’d find a way
for us to let you in
If the whole world were a needle
And you were the thread
I still think you could eye us
Through the blood you shed,
Could sew us back up
and be our friend
What if the poems we make never end?
That’s
a fear I hadn’t dreamed or comprehended
But
that might be how my story ends
Jesus,
my author, my Lord and my Friend
A Lover
of sinners, and women and
Jen
with
three N’s
one for
each act of the story he’ll send
