ONION

it's that time again when its fragrance fills the air
time for another epiphany
time for another layer to come off and lay aside
discarded
though imperceptibly light streams of
cobweb-like strings are trying to remain attached,
the Master's hand is at work.
Ultimate surgery,
I've been through it before
kicking and screaming but now...
now I am a big girl
I have learnt not to cry over onions
I have become eager for the Master's hand to keep peeling away,
one layer at a time,
eager for Him to finally cut the core in half and
let loose all the juice of my deepest intricacy
waiting to exhale in a big loud "ahaaa" moment
when I know that I know that I know
exactly how fearfully and how wonderfully
He made me.