Threadbare

Bent low,

I feel my failures
mightily,

and their weight pulls me

down,

taunting me,

daring me

to get up --

get up!

Surprise --

I intend to 

rise

with strength spent long ago

and skills in which I am poor.

Threadbare,

I must go forth.

He cloaks the birds

in splendor -- 

surely He will fill these

empty hands

with something,

something I have not yet imagined,
animating mind and heart
to learn, to do --
and the strength will be all His.

I will go forth.