A Series of Poems for Prayers: #1 The Weary Life.

The Weary Life
Though
I barely come,
I come.
Though
I am weary,
I search.
Your invitation
has roused me
and given me
the strength
to crawl
into your light.
To inch out of
shadows,
and awaken to
hope.
With so many
demands,
I stop and listen.
Exhausting fears
(about the future),
taxing worries
(for those I love),
and the toxic belief:
“It’s all is up to me,”
I come.
In the stillness
I sense you,
and from you
I access peace.
In the quiet
I hear you,
and with you
I have company.
You don’t
fill me.
You don’t
revive me.
You resurrect me.
Over the next few weeks, I will be posting some poems/prayers. We ebb and flow through these points in time; these states o
f human existence: weariness, gratitude, conviction, and worship. What I love about poetry is that it strips away the words, leaving only glimpses and images, snippets of what we often can't put to a long description. And maybe, with so many words, with so much noise and information coming at us all day long, we ne
ed less.