I Don't Know How to Say It
a poem by Peter M. Ivey
I Don’t Know How to Say It
I could tell you of his adolescent arm, once the length of a lengthy pumpkin stem, resting on my hovering shoulder. I could describe my breath like a radiating flame in the crook of his bent neck. I could explore the itch of my graying beard, the twitch of his descending body, the silence. I could replay the gratitude that pooled beneath my eyelids, the dorsal fin of time that cut through my brackish mind. Or I could simply say that God was there as I laid with my son at the end of another day.
An Invitation
Is there a word, phrase, or image that captures your attention in today’s poem?
Where have you encountered God unexpectedly over the past week? Take some time to ask the Spirit to illuminate a moment for you. Sit with it. Savor it. Pay attention and become curious about what stirs in you emotionally and/or physically as you replay this memory in your mind.
Consider reading the poem one more time, asking the Holy Spirit, What invitation are you offering me here today? Listen, linger, and rest in God’s unending love for you.
If today’s poem spoke to you in any way, I’d love to hear about it! Consider dropping a word in the comments below. You might also consider sharing it with your friends!
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My eyes kept going back to resting and hovering. Felt like such gentle invitations.