The not ungrateful leper

It was not ingratitude silenced me,
but inadequacy; the paucity
of my language; the paltry dance
of palsied limbs, trembling as a fawn,
trembling as one newly born,

barely breathing; rasping
out music as though the song
had been buried too long
in the earth, in dusty lungs,
swallowed by the furred tongue,

unclean, unheard, so long unseen, afraid
to try on its first note to kiss the air,
insult your ears with faint praise,
my all too humble thanks.

About Rosalind C Hughes

Rosalind C Hughes is a priest and author living near the shores of Lake Erie. After growing up in England and Wales, and living briefly in Singapore, she is now settled in Ohio. She serves an Episcopal church just outside Cleveland. Rosalind is the author of A Family Like Mine: Biblical Stories of Love, Loss, and Longing (Upper Room Books, 2020). She loves the lake, misses the ocean, and is finally coming to terms with snow.
This entry was posted in lectionary reflection, poetry, prayer and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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