BB Grey–musings

I am a pillar of salt,
frozen in place,
looking back on a life
I cannot retrace.

Salt the ground beneath my feet,
cast out for lack of taste,
a barren void of withered seed,
choked by ash and sinful waste.

The heavens pour,
mercy’s rain falls still—
a gift for the righteous
and sinners who will.
Yet I dissolve, grain by grain,
a quiet repentance on this stained plain.

A ring of white on tainted ground,
a monument to what was bound:
A soul once lost, now breaking apart,
yearning for grace,
a softened heart.

Salt without savor,
a pillar turned black,
a fleeting reminder—
there is no way back.

Yet as I crumble,
a voice calls out,
“Come home, My child,
though the storms may shout.”

And so I dissolve,
not in despair,
but in hope of rebirth
through mercy’s care.