The only thing I can do today
is breathe.
--Feel the air move slowly, quietly,
begrudgingly through my chest.
The pressure of the world squeezes in,
and I try to walk, try to use my limbs.
But all of my energy is occupied
by the simple act
of breathing.

The busy-bodied thoughts
That complained they were
Late for work, slowed their
Pace as a gentle Spirit
Descended on the grubby,
Activity-ridden streets.
Their hands loosened their
Grip on the hard-edged
Briefcases, and the buzz
In their bodies settled
Into a lackadaisical hum.

When my head is spinning with the blades of excuses
Used by the enemey,
I see Your love in the light of the drapes,
Your glory in the morning.
I say to myself “I am nothing, I am nothing.”
But my hands continue to make plans
Without You in them.
My heart bows to shame, my ears to false prophets,
And I kneel before You, Lord,
Wondering what kind of love allows You to be faithful
To such an unworthy servant.

“I want to go home.”

I said the words
Like a child,
The world suddenly
So big, so daunting.

Someone kneeled
Before me.
It didn’t matter who,
And said,
“This is your home,”

Confusion was slanted
On the front door
I had painted,
So long ago.

Still, it was
not my home.

I turned away,
Tears on my skin,
And tipped my head back. 


“Lord, why won’t you
Take me home?”

The trees warbled
As I walked down streets
I hardly knew. 


“You are needed here.
I am not done with you.
Have faith, Child.”