Poetry BY Hannah Sanders

Love Without Misanthropy

What is love

if it doesn’t question?

If her eyes don’t pause mid turn

after slap on right cheek

to look in their pain hollowed eyes

before offering the left.

Her honor rests not in their shaming,

nor their insouciant blaming,

but she must ask them

to know who they are

by their deeds, too.

So she wanders a while,

with neither tunic

once close to her skin

nor cloak of beauty,

but pauses to reflect

in water’s restive mirror,

sees her nakedness of soul.

She’d been a pack animal once,

ready to carry every burden

laid across her back;

she must choose now

if she’ll tarry another mile.

What is love if it doesn’t

resist, doesn’t counter

cold with coals for a fire?

Thin Places

She looks at her life being shaped

And sometimes gets what Bilbo said

When he felt like butter scraped,

Spread thin over too much bread

They say there’s a use for sorrow

But she’s spent and sapped; could

Utility wait for tomorrow?

She glances at the shoes cast aside

By one traipsing through the house

And sighs.

Oh, to be so unencumbered as

Bare footed toe wiggling

Traipsing child full of wonder;

Such as she was once.

She takes off her own shoes,

Toes grooves of wood cool floor

And imagines a holy moment-

Did Moses at burning bush

Un-sandaled, place his shoes

Neatly side by side? Or fling

Them in disorderly awe?

She imagines she’d wander

Without her sandals

Lost in replayed conversation

Aware only of holy habitation

In that thin place

On the mountain of God

Where Heaven and earth meet;

Where sheep feed.

She thinks again of thin places

Of her own ordinary life

Torn places for graces glimpsed

With unveiled vision,

Where comfort and joy seep

Easy from God’s heart to hers

Like gentle rain falling.

She holds her hands out

To catch the falling graces

Of peace and joy,

Her hands overflowing

Onto kitchen floor grooves

And feet-worn spaces;

There’s hope overflowing

Into all her thin places.

Hannah Sanders is a follower of Christ, wife, mom, teacher, artist and writer. She loves all things book-ish, afternoon tea, and is happiest in the mountains and when surrounded by tall trees. Her art, prose, and poetry have been featured by the Brazos Valley Arts Council, The Way Back to Ourselves journal, and Vessels of Light among others. You can find her on Instagram @hannahsanders.art