Wanderer

by BRIANNA ROSE BURTON

I wandered these uncharted lands
where people live with broken hands
and reaching out instead of
giving in.

I walked the plank with tender miles,
sold my soul for simple smiles,
hoping that the day would  bring me
to my knees.

I rowed away to shameless shores
where victims conquered deathless wars,
and someone lived a prisoner
to the world.

There have been times I battered death,
excluded myself for Satan’s sake,
and mourned the loss of virgin lips
upon the sands.

But now to think that I forget
the simple thanks of endless breath,
that they would know my story
soul to soul.

And now I walk on tired feet
going to where their lives meet
the unforsaken tragedy of death.

Its lips are woven out of sticks,
of ageless memories and aches,
that Death has taken claim
for himself.

And wandering the streets I hear
the sufferings that burn my ears,
until one day they give us
second chance.

A chance to live on freeing earth,
a smile that starts on day of birth,
and lives to find its freedom
in the rain.

For rains will come and wash us clean,
and help us stand or help us lean,
to know that life is all it brings
to damaged souls.

And they will know the healing power,
their pain extinguished by the hour,
as light will shine its way through
broken hearts.

And once and all they’ll love again,
and live to know they suffered then
to have the faith to live as they
do now.

And I will sit in thrones of peace,
bringing life to the redeemed,
so that all may know the image
of the Maker.

They’ll know the Maker
that makes them weep,
and all will fall down to their knees,
and say “I am forgiven,” once again.

I am forgiven once again by my one Maker.