at just the thought
that you might possibly be there
a figure to my left
my closed eyes
not daring to make sure
my heart
silently trying to convince myself that you couldn’t possibly have come this morning
Light filled me
Like oil pouring into an almost empty lamp
Like a warm, anointing
spreading down from the crown of my head
my tired legs could stand again
my tired voice sang strong again
my weary heart felt glad again
The figure to my left
was just a boring, disappointing stranger
and I wondered at how quickly I had changed
all it took was a tiny thread of hope
to fill me with life
this little selfish desire for your presence
Couldn’t I find a better way to bring this light unto myself?