As I lay awake, a picture came into my head.
A library, where I went as a child.
Small, but graced with shining wood
With old and brittle books,
In the children's section where I stood
There was a girl,
A girl of white marble,
Not much smaller than me,
And standing on a pedestal.
She puzzled me.
She looked to be a country girl,
With rough-hewn skirt,
And a sheep at her side.
Her hand was raised,
Her fingers held something,
Something delicate, something invisible.
And her other hand held something,
Held it as if ready to let it go
(Or had she already let it go?)
Between thumb and long finger
Something thin like a shaft
Swelled in the middle
with What I could not tell.....
As if moving, hovering.
I puzzled over that graceful white girl
When I was a girl, long ago.
Something there I could not see.
But now I see.
Now I do.
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"Now Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1
May all that puzzles you become clear.