Father, You say I will find rest
If I am burdened and weary—
But what if my burdens
Are imagined?
I am surrounded by Your grace,
Held tight by glowing circumstances,
Yet I search for the strands
Of doubt, of anxiety, and
Torment myself with the thought
That if I rest, I will fail You.

I feel the wrongness
In realization--
Safe on a small ottoman,
Memories aching--
They are yet to be made.
I worry they never will be.
My heart stutters,
The first awakening,
Panic sets in as I return
To the film set of my mistakes--
The tape begins rolling.
Take one, take two,
How can you stop a polaroid
From forming
Once the flash has gone off?
I worry my lessons learned
Are not enough.
Hide my face, pretend not to
See him enter the room--
I know,
I cannot
hide my heart
from You.

A vacancy of support,
Sweetness submerged,
A saving grace
In the tug of a door--
Melodies over currents,
An angel on her back,
Meeting her Lord.

Steeped in the floodgates of Heaven,
Droplets of joy, of forgotten memories,
Rain down, drenching, all-consuming—
Head tipped back, arms outstretched,
Surrounded by the crash of heartache.
Perfection mingling with humanity, tears
Beating pleas of grace and compassion
Into the stained minds on the sidewalk.

Sending out doves,
Hopes on a shelf,
Past momentos
Gathered in dust,
The state of myself,
Immobile in mess,
Watching windows
For every answer,
Sunken deep under
Paralyzed duress.