Worship Opportunities

I was reading through some of my old journals and also thinking about loved ones who now experience achy Mother's Days for various reasons. I wrote this poem to sit together with that ache. 

Empty Bouquets 

Fresh bouquets color the storefront,
Their abundant display, 
A celebration of motherhood, 
Vibrant in variety.

Beneath the abundance,
Whispers of the past 
Haunt your heart. 

Now an empty bouquet.

A distant mother,
Still known by you, 
Asks who you are,
Her body a shell of who she once was.

A mother now gone, 
Your life, a soft echo,
Heart carrying legacy, 
Hands repeating traditions.

Sorrow sweeps through the ache 
Of a child lost too soon.
An empty car, an empty cradle.

Another woman longing for a cradle to fill. 

Your heart, a bouquet of weeds,
Overgrown with waiting,
Watching out the window,
Hopeful for the wandering child.

Death stole a loving spouse,
The intimacy that made a family,
Now leaves an empty space at the table.

Lord, take the broken, cracked,
Hard, dry soil
That has become our hearts.

Till it, turn it, nourish it.
Make it soft, 
That the seeds of your mercy
May root in days ahead.

Let the empty bouquets
Flower once more.