All these things I want to be.
All these stories I want to create.
All these people I want to become.
She reads and she waits and she ponders.
Caught up in the reverie that is her song.
The idea takes over and she waits.
The final idea is the beginning.
The only time to be anything is now.
I was a wanderer and you were a child.
Take the bleeding hearts and make them one.
She finds the time to wait.
Taking over the restlessness that instills.
Fighting the anger and ranting and raving.
The thoughts get muddled and she waits.
I taught the world to listen and I left.
Battles to fight and wars to win and I want peace.
Take these sisters and show them mercy.
She dreams in reverent freedom.
Finding the reality of these penetrating songs.
Still whispering liberty to all she sees.
She herself sings like a child.
She calls the name of Most High.
Wants to find the answers but most of all peace.
Be at one with herself and all these questions.
What time to bring the news of redemption.
She bows, she curtsies, she rests.
I underestimate You all the time.
I regather my strength in You.
I last long enough to find You.
The final idea is the beginning.
I am she who wanders and thinks
And rants and raves and writes
And dreams and longs and wonders
And stops and rests.
I am she who stops and rests to
See.
Freedom may come in tireless work
But it comes first in Rest.
Free me.
I am she who stops and rests.
1 comment:
It's that stopping and resting that I've had to focus on lately. I tend to forget that injunction to "Be Still and Know." I've always tended to prefer "Be Frantic and Worry."
Thanks for sharing so much and so frequently.
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