Dear God

Your hands, cupped
To receive the little that I have.
The little that I’ve held back.

I open, clenched hands
That stayed that way for a while too long
Holding on to things that are not mine.

I unmask the face
That I’ve hidden from you
With decorations and definitions of beauty.

I cry the tears
That sweep through my steel doors
Into the arms of my Savior, my dear God.