Kept Me at Bay

Kept Me at Bay

(“Do not labor for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of man will give to you; for on him has God the Father set his seal.” John 6:27)

The morning had its way with me again,
bearing down like the north wind against a lone walker,
parka wrapped closely, head downward into the day,
barely making his way before breathing fast inside
the nearest shelter.

All week long the pain laid siege to my best plans,
starting early, pounding my body with reluctance.
Decision #1, pull off the covers. Decision #2,
put my feet on the floor. Decision #3, is the bathroom
warm enough. Decision #4, pick the blankets off the floor
and find the couch warm enough until the second try
near noon.

From Sunday until Saturday it kept me at bay.
Best intentions became texts and tiny phone calls,
polite apologies for missing breakfast. I eat less
on weeks like this; either my defense against the siege,
or my body bluffing the pain into believing I still have
all I need.

How do I call You, Dearest Friend, on these days;
how do I explain my absence on days I could have
left the pain bloodied behind me, using all my resources
in one morning’s hour.

How do I seek You, Never Hidden, on these weeks;
when the Bread of Heaven is my only food,
when I pray for reinforcements daily while the
week leaves me dragging, fighting the invisible,
the wind, the pain, the words, the same questions
I have for You again. When do I lay down my arms
and rest in Yours? How do I greet the mornings
when the siege-works are set up without warning.

How do I call You, Friend Closely, who knows me,
and, though You can heal me, leaves me helpless
and hoping rest today will gain fresh tomorrow.

How do I seek You, Always, though my mornings
murmur absence? Silence is better than wrath,
mercy is in these moments.