Here is the towel thrown that signifies the end
Here is where my voice blends in with the anthems of men
Let there be no mistaking
About the eternal blunders come to call over-taking
Why not now? Why not take me?
Everyone I’ve known and loved
Only served to shake me to my core then forsake me
There is potential,
But no “way” has yet manifest
Only trials and tests, after tests, after tests
I’m putting down this pen that I’ve always felt naked without
Shutting myself from the things I see and hear
That I can only stand by and do nothing about
You stood by decades ago…
While demons violated me
In the interim grew bitter
Thought, how intensely You must hate me
Took the ridicule, the shaming, the berating
Can’t say I endured well
But somehow You saw me through the tunnel
And I met Hope for the first time
finally understood why time and again You wouldn’t let me just die
Intervention, open eye…to flaming eyes
This is the part where I always melt and cry
This is where the pen keeps moving
Despite the blurriness of watery eyes
At wit’s end, there must be more to offer
Than tears and a wit run dry
At least I can say I was once yours for a time
Did I have a change of heart?
Did I have a change of mind?
Or am I closest when I feel furthest,
Are You somewhere nearby?
Peek-a-boo again,
With my late Dad in Mom’s dreams?
I see You in the sheet of paper
That once lived as a tree
Center of east and west, north and south
At the heart of the matter
(oh, man. They’re really wheelin’ in a recliner into my hospital room now, I thought they were kiddin’)
In two days I get cracked open like a lobster
Spent a lifetime thinking I could circumvent God’s will
By-pass makes sense in a strange way
A life of short-cuts through tall grasses that eventually would become well-worn paths
I recall passing by the paper mills on the way to Port Charleston many a morn
What an awful stench!
It’s a process but two ton rolls of paper
Roll off of a production line
Much needed cargo/freight in making a living
May just be a thing of the past now
Delivering the very same paper upon which many a good Word, bad news, paychecks and poems are written and now…
If it be God’s will and I awaken
Tons of paperwork to look forward to in pursuit of what once was earned by doing
Now I get to “be”
To trust and rely in earnest on Your provision
Put to the test yet again…
Thinking back,
Seeing clearly,
I can’t recall a time,
In God’s honest Truth
Where You’ve ever let me down
The concept of gratitude in all things,
somehow for so long beyond grasp eluded me
Whatever Your Will for me,
learned the harder way it was my poor choice alone
now submit to accept gratefully
and do so forevermore joyfully
learn to grow…
wherever Thou Will to plant me.
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