Checking the Score

 
Checking the Score

(“For the Lord, the Holy One of Israel, has said: ‘You will be delivered by returning and resting; your strength will lie in quiet confidence.’” Isaiah 30:15)

I checked the score and no one was winning--
that is not true; I was losing.

My numbers did not add up,
my mind was numb with counting.
The walls turned on their foundations,
the windows were tinted and reflected
nothing back.
The room was filled with voices like lava,
everyone sat in the cheap seats while
the balcony was empty.

I checked the manuscript and no one was reading--
that is not true; I was writing.

Records show, if you are inclined to look,
that my ideas have been loose as rain tied into knots.
My grades were good, only my performance suffered.
The strain to forget was a night-full of mosquitoes,
the reminders, weeds untamed. They were housed
in my brain so long the attic was moldy.

I checked ratings and no one was watching--
that is not true; I had been recorded.

But I no longer care who sees or scores,
what unsavory secrets are stored in recent
and ancient files. They are hefty with my
under-deeds. They are filled with tales I
will not refute.

I checked with heaven; checked in.
All was quiet as the day before creation,
the day after resurrection.