God, you are not the follower
No, you are the author and when I unclasp
my fists and release
fall to my knees, give words to the pen
then, I see
I can breathe
and on we go
not really in the know
but able to go
when we thought we were done.
///
Having trouble sleeping
of a serious kind
what is this ailment of the mind
not happy to be here
forward
or behind
Lord, what is the path
of ambling I'm on
of extreme joy
and hysterical laughter
that purges way to gasping breaths
that fears what is too soon
like a house we have never seen
to sign for a year
or the creeping of questions of enough
or am I supposed to be here
and like this?
and You, Lord,
are a mystery
sometimes so beautiful
and others so mean
but is it the world that really
is that way
and you are the one I blame
you whose name
my heart has saved
Lord I cannot say enough my thanks
and yet here I wait
wait not for your stillness mercy and peace
but for my piece
my place
I ask, seek your face
for my profit and my heart
but Lord that's the start
to see where I am wrong
what I've done all along
and change
let's sleep... and soon
soon the moon will lull away
my pain
and all the worries of the day
for it was filled to the brim
but tomorrow
in thankfulness swim and be
free.
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