Streams of Comfort

As I wrote this poem, I thought a lot about how love in this world always lets us down. None of us seem to be able to sustain pure love that sacrifices, protects, and always places others before ourselves. With no conditions or expectations. I realized that we need a love that is greater than our faults and even this world in order for it to last. I hope that you are encouraged to think about how wide, and high, and vast the love of God is as you read.

Aphrodite was weeping.
I remember it clearly.
I was in a museum and I had entered a section full of sculptures,
I walked around and observed reproductions of David, Perseus, and other famous works.
And when I reached the sculpture of Aphrodite,
I stopped for a moment longer than the others.
There was something odd about her marble form,
Something out of place,
Among her wavy hair, draping garments, and vacant eyes,
That looked off into the distance.
And as I focused my gaze I noticed it,
A drop of water that glistened just underneath her left eye,
Withstanding gravity,
Until seconds later it was eventually pulled down,
Leaving a small streak in its wake as it slid over the marble,
And disappeared into the ground.
That tear was proof to me that weeping existed within love and beauty,
That for some reason the love of this world would always transform into sorrow.
Even though she is no truer than a fantasy,
And I’m sure that the ceiling had been leaking somewhere,
I learned in that moment that we need a love that is greater than even the universe,
In order for it to last.
And so I walked away from Aphrodite then,
I left her weeping there,
So that I could go find a depiction of Jesus,
To remember that God’s love is vast enough to envelop existence itself.