My Quiet is White
(“The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty enough to save you.
He will take great delight in you. The quietness of his love will calm you down.
He will sing with joy because of you.”
Zephaniah 3:17)
I shout from the
wilderness of the invisible illnesses; pain and
psychic refrains which repeat the black hole madness that it is only
air that keeps me alive. My pillow remains tearstained long after I
rise and feel the explosive tears like lava ready to flow hot again by noon.
Each one that falls asks, “Where are you?”
psychic refrains which repeat the black hole madness that it is only
air that keeps me alive. My pillow remains tearstained long after I
rise and feel the explosive tears like lava ready to flow hot again by noon.
Each one that falls asks, “Where are you?”
It was fine for a time,
when friends were just a block away. Dale
in his garage, rebuilding his 66 VW bug engine, or riding up my driveway
on his Honda 450. There is no one closer than a day’s drive. And,
since You are all-knowing, I know you will answer, “and you were lonely
back then too, weren’t you?” That’s my argument, my pain, my agony,
and my plea: If you are mighty enough, why haven’t you saved me yet
from me?
in his garage, rebuilding his 66 VW bug engine, or riding up my driveway
on his Honda 450. There is no one closer than a day’s drive. And,
since You are all-knowing, I know you will answer, “and you were lonely
back then too, weren’t you?” That’s my argument, my pain, my agony,
and my plea: If you are mighty enough, why haven’t you saved me yet
from me?
I’ve told you about all
this before, how many who once made my heart
bounce like a spring picnic with the few faces who never gave away
the accidentally spilled secrets and wine. I’ve told you before that,
among the dearest of them also were lying faces who lie from top
to bottom with lips that once kissed my cheek in welcome. I am
finished with friendship, unless, in Your delight in me, you
pour perfumed salve in the wounds, and bring back to my path
one or two with unlocked hearts who won’t try to crack my
own combination.
bounce like a spring picnic with the few faces who never gave away
the accidentally spilled secrets and wine. I’ve told you before that,
among the dearest of them also were lying faces who lie from top
to bottom with lips that once kissed my cheek in welcome. I am
finished with friendship, unless, in Your delight in me, you
pour perfumed salve in the wounds, and bring back to my path
one or two with unlocked hearts who won’t try to crack my
own combination.
My quiet is my white
noise. Sound annoys me. I would welcome
an unknown who simply opened my front door and wiped my tears
without a word,
than having to answer the pounding; doors are startling;
or the ringing; phones are disheartening.
an unknown who simply opened my front door and wiped my tears
without a word,
than having to answer the pounding; doors are startling;
or the ringing; phones are disheartening.
If You will love me silently, then please silence me preemptively.
Now singing, that’s
what I need. Let the other three or four begin,
and let me just join in when I’m ready. You know the music that
started like buggies over potholes; but we supposed it was better
to play,
than to keep our instruments locked within their cases. Sing,
like Fire and Rain, and the Hallelujah Chorus again.*
and let me just join in when I’m ready. You know the music that
started like buggies over potholes; but we supposed it was better
to play,
than to keep our instruments locked within their cases. Sing,
like Fire and Rain, and the Hallelujah Chorus again.*
*If anyone who reads
this feels the lonely shadow instead of the
lovely presence; now you know you are not the only one: friend?
lovely presence; now you know you are not the only one: friend?
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