I am in a dry land
where my spirit seems as thin as a ghost–
a barely seen shadow in the corner of an eye.
Why am I so uninspired?
They say I should not speak of it—that I should focus on something bright,
but it just doesn’t feel right; it feels like a lie.
It feels like You have cast a dark veil over my dreams and dashed my hopes against the stone you said you would protect me from.
But I trust You in spite of all that time has brought to light.
I trust You beyond the raw fright of growing old
and broken down.
See how the wind picks up the dust and rushes like a dervish
to places I’ll never know?
It feels like You have placed a dark veil over all I know even as You promise that You have so much more to show me.
Someone’s prayers have turned to smoke curling around candlelight;
mine is an empty gasp, a feeble grasp on the ephemeral, shimmering moon.
I trust You when you say stay calm, that it will be light soon enough, that the desert will bloom and everything will be born anew,
just like You promise when You kiss my eyes against this dark night.