I endured six hours where my mind
was not preoccupied with you, but
that's all I could last.
Now, now is the moment where I usually
yearn for your voice. And you always
answer, however sleepy, with a confident
"what's up, kiddo?"
And I am reassured that I can rush
to you with unfinished, strained lyrics.
Each word, whether consent or opening
my heart in honesty, each utterance
impacts another.
Should I confront you? Ask for clarity?
Pour out my anger, my doubts, my
inquiries as to why you never held me close.
Do you believe in your spirit that I am
lovable? Even with what I've done to myself?
Sometimes, I think it would be smoother
if my river would not have to merge
into the ocean- and I, could travel
carrying only one current.
How much swells inside me, how many
tides could engulf my gathered strength.
I asked God question after question today,
"please, give me a sign...
am I making the right choice...
what do I do, be here now!".
But there were no shadows, no fluttering
of wings, no shout of yes or no.
And tomorrow, I will pace the church
pews once more, as light beckons
then retreats from the stained-glass
windows outlined in pierced hearts
and treasured doves.
Tomorrow, I will sing with a choked
voice the melody I'm asking God's
grace to give.
