Pockets

I don’t have
a proper pocket;
none large enough
to carry
your kindness
and respect.
Your generous gifts
slip awkwardly
from my hands
as I fumble for a place
to keep them.
I need to
sew me some
way-down-deep-pockets,
big enough
to hold your love.

——

For this reason I kneel before the Father.
And I pray that you,
being rooted and established
in love, may have power… to know this love
that surpasses knowledge—
that you may be filled to the measure
of all the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:14,17,19

From Heaven at my Door by Juanita Ryan