Having passed through the furnace
we look at each other
with opened eyes.
Afraid to discover a permanent wound,
uncertain of what burned away and what's left,
but helpless to heal,
with our zeroful hearts.
To our tender ears how the words grated,
of God's perfect plan, God's miraculous rescues.
For some, the waters never part;
to some, the waters come rushing back over top of.
And we, we are changed, we are changed,
and do not discuss it,
still fragile, unsure of our standing position.