Clean Slate

My pastor preached a good one today. Reminded me of this poem I wrote Jan. 2019…

Lord come and wipe it all away clean.

Wipe the chalkdust away until the slate is green.

Erase when I said, what I said to you know who.

While you’re at it, can you wipe away what they said to me too?

Is there really a way to just swipe, erase it all?

Shouldn’t there be something left for us to recall?

A penance, a price we need to pay,

for not doing it the right way?

And what about those marks, those lines that remained on the slate so long?

That keep tally of every slight and every wrong.

For when they are wiped, a shadow of them is left hauntingly behind.

How do you erase them clearly, and only clean can you find?

What about those marks that were wrote deep, forever etched on the slate’s memory to stay?

Can you really just scrub, and sweep them away?

Can a clean slate really be true?

Start over fresh and new?

Lord, come and wipe it all away clean.

For my eraser doesn’t work, only yours does my King!

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