![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/3a9cc5_a63188e7a5b644b1b0ea4cfc128a0f76~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_800,h_800,al_c,q_85/3a9cc5_a63188e7a5b644b1b0ea4cfc128a0f76~mv2.jpg)
as the seam rises from my mug
i breathe and sip
what this world is so afraid of...
a quiet moment before
a universe-size God, who spoke
with Moses, walked with Adam
and whispers still to men
who listen
with hearts
content and broken
to be able in a quiet
morning to speak
words unsaid over coffee
with the One who wrote down
their days and speaks still in
not-so-insignificant ways, weighing
and marking my soul like gold and dross,
i guess these are the moments where i count it
all, every single shard of shattered glass, as loss...
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