Bathe in my Love

My child.

Shake depression’s dust from

your travel beaten soul and bathe in

my pure love. Let me pour my healing fragrance

over your wounds and give you rest.

 

I plucked you from the orphanage

of death and clothed you in the rich threads

of royalty. Everything I have is yours– I withhold

nothing of myself from you.

 

I have worn your dust, and know your

sin beaten sorrow. I lift your downcast face, to see the

crowning glory of my new day

reflected in the creation of you.

Published by

Karisa Moore

I lost my son to suicide. Each day since, I commit my day to turning the page and continuing to write my story. There is no deeper grief, but I know too, that there is no greater hope than bringing life out of death. I offer each page to you as a testimony that there is hope for abundant life!

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