We’re creaky,
a little worse for wear,
orangey rough sharp edges.
When you open us up like gates,
we make a racket
and feel some embarrassed,
like maybe we should have buffed out the bumpy parts and
greased the creaky parts
and put out shiny best,
but you and me, we can’t kid each other.
We know we’re all dinged up.
When we sit cradling cups of prayer and coffee,
and when we share broken and winding dreams over beers,
and when we listen for the small voice in the middle of the urban woods
and hold tight to the one that says
blessed are the poor in spirit,
we enter into the truth of one another’s banged up messes.
And when you see the rust on my gates,
and call even that beautiful,
because you understand it’s my human wear and tear,
my journey and my story,
the part of me that longs for shiny eases up a bit and exhales
because it’s good to be known.
And when I say, “yes, exactly” and “me too,” I’m telling you
I’m glad you opened your gate for me
because your patina is lovely (and familiar), and it’s quite possibly
evidence of where hope hides with you,
wanting to be known even as you seek cover.
When you say, like a proud auntie, that you see how I’ve grown,
when you chart my progress in your words and tell me
I’m drawing closer to God, and it is good,
it is then, friend, that you oil my gates.
When I tell you that I see a book being birthed in you,
and when I tell you that you teach me to be brave with your
free flow of color across paper,
and when I sit with you as you cry,
I oil your gates.
We open up even though it hurts,
help each other remember these creaking joints
and spilling out messes from behind fences aren’t the whole story.
They’re more like invitations, another way through to
all these glorious tales in our making.
_______________
Linking with the team of writers at Concrete Words with the prompt RUST. (I was certainly inspired by Tammy Hendricksmeyer’s beautiful offering there this week!) So honored to be a part of that word-weaving troupe of beauty. Check us out here. Also joining up with the (in)courage community groups as we write on the Power of Encouragement. Join me in either place. I’d love to see your words poured out as we walk each other home.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
Wow, Ashley, this is so beautiful! I love your take on ‘rust’ and how compassionately you write with such a caring heart for community. Those “creaking joints” are with me physically as well as metaphorically and I know how good it feels when others see the pain and embrace us as we are, wounded, scarred and with a patina all our own.
Each one offering oil of comfort and joy to the next as Holy Spirit provides. You have written a lovely, encouraging piece of poetry here, my friend. Blessings to you :) xx
Joy, you walk out this metaphor, don’t you? Thank you for extending your love from that very place of wounding and pain. You are one who offers much oil of comfort and joy. Grateful for you.
Goosebumps from my ears to my knees to my toes. This is so deeply, touchingly beautiful, dear Ashley.
I am blessed by your goosebumps, friend. Always. Love you.
Whew, beautiful.
Thanks so much, Lisa-Jo.
LOVE love love this, my friend! And you… and all your well oiled/rusty ways!
Grateful for your presence here, always. Such a joy to be growing to know you more, Karrilee. What a gem you are.
Ashley – You have such a way through verse of breathing life, telling story, splattering paint, speaking wisdom, bowing low. It is always a deep, satisfying inhale to read you. And on top of that, I get to love you and all your beautiful rusty parts! xox
Thank you so much, Mama. And thanks for helping me become a lover of poetry. You did that, ya know? Love you.
“We open up even thought it hurts.” So true. So very true. And we are all the better for it too. I am always amazed at how God weaves His words so uniquely in each of us. I never grow weary of it.
Thank you for that encouragement today, Tammy. Words woven uniquely…yes, isn’t that exactly right? Thank you for inspiring me with your words.
I love this Ash…beautiful. Thanks for coming in.
Thanks for letting me, Jen. :-) xoxo
Sweetie, this whole piece moves me so deeply. You write with a breath of inspired glory here. But this, I just want you to know – in all these ways, you have oiled my rusty gate, and I’m so grateful for you, friend…
“When I tell you that I see a book being birthed in you,
and when I tell you that you teach me to be brave with your
free flow of color across paper,
and when I sit with you as you cry,
I oil your gates.”
I wrote what I did today on my own blog because of you oiling my gate. I love you.
This blessed me more than you can know, my friend. I am so excited for what’s being birthed in you! I love you.
Beautiful Ashley, BEAUTIFUL!!!
Thank you, friend. So are you!
Leave it to you to make something beautiful from rust! Both rusty gates and the posted comments oiled my gates today :)
All these comments — including yours — oiled mine, too, Deb. xoxo
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