Close the Book

This story is over

And I stay on the last page

re-reading the last line

over, and over and over

Because its not the ending I wanted

It's not the ending I planned for

or dreamed for

or hoped for

or prayed for

Did God hear my prayer?

Does He see this?

Or did he glance away, for just a second

While this last line was written

Or worse yet?

Did he allow this line to be written

A line that cut my heart in half

And left me like a pile

of flesh

Bleeding, openly

For days and weeks

I have decided that the latter is what happened.

He allowed it

Maybe my heart needed cutting

Maybe it was wound too tight

in the flesh

And the only way to release my

spirit

Was to be cut

So here I sit, cut open,

weeping, and weeping and weeping

And sorting through the past 16 years of my life

and asking myself

what I am supposed to do next

Asking God to show me how to grow in this

As I pray

I hear a knock on my door

It's Fed-Ex

A non-descript man hands me

A small package.

I sign for it.

Will it contain a bomb?

I almost hope it does.

I open it

And there lies a book

With a white cover

and small gold letters

with a title

"Sequel to Book One"

I open the cover

and a tiny white feather, 

floats up and around my face

then a wind carries it away

I turn to the first page

And it is blank.

I flip through the whole book

And it's pure whiteness almost blinds me

I go inside

And lay the book face down.

Taped to the back of the book

Is a pen, with silver ink

And a small note

"It's time to write...."

Another tiny white feather

is stuck to the back cover

I trace it with my finger tips

And a sense of hope

Wells up in me

I weep in gratitude

"Thank you." I whisper

To whomever sent me this gift