Mercy's Hand

His tender whisper gently speaks
with bruising truth that grips my soul.
A loyal, earnest heart he seeks
to reconstruct and make him whole.

Integrity he's searching for
within the answers I provide.
He's digging through concealment's core,
exhuming facts I won't confide.

For buried deep, my secret lies;
deceptions hidden long ago.
With prying force, my spirit cries;
enlightenment's a blinding foe.

Suspicion's haze now clouds his mind;
a ring of doubt encircles me.
A perfect love he sought to find;
instead there burns uncertainty.

My ghosts from yesterday arise
to douse the flames of growing hope.
A disappointment floods his eyes
yet grace deploys redemption's rope.

His hand of mercy strokes my face,
then offers me a second chance,
sincerity I must embrace
or dreams will end with sorrow's dance.

So as I grasp compassion's line
devotion's lantern lights my way.
With honesty our beacons shine;
from beams of trust I shall not stray.

by Jo Lynn Ehnes

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