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 of 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 need less.