When knees fall

When knees touch ground,
the sacred seem to listen.
Knees do not bend in trivia.
Like a page folded from our story.
Knees mark a wrinkle in a silky life.
A ridge worth a peak from heaven.
We kneel for God to listen.
We bend to make ourselves silent.
Knees ground when we fail.
They sink when we weep.
They fold when we do.
They burrow when we surrender.
But all is not of darkness.
On our knees we plant a tree.
From our knees we learn to crawl.
And on a knee we promise forever.

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Claire
9 years ago

good to see your ink again… your words always touch deep places in me.