PROMISES, PROMISES


Tears sting my eyes

at the message —

one about His promises —

meant for my comfort.

For weeks I have stayed away,

nursing newborn grief.

But this morning, in a duel with the Devil,

I adjusted my broken heart

in the mirror’s reflection

and returned to the fold.

New tears formed in my eyes

as Satan’s taunts:

“They don’t love you, anymore,” he wheedles.

“Get on with your life,” he whines.

From the back row, I search the audience

for a “fellow discard”,

seeing, instead, only couples and children.

Never have I felt so alone.

“See there? You’re only half a woman,” he crows.

Nobody cares for failures like you!”

With closing prayer, his victory vanishes.

Unknown friends with kind eyes

offer understanding shoulders

keeping God’s promises after all.

** Kim K. Terry **

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