Things all placed in tidy spaces
Long moments of silence…solitude at its listening best
Fills my life with too many hours of meaning
Squeezed out of life’s empty spaces

Contemplation would not find a kinder friend
Although being still is not my gift
Moving, running, strumming constantly
But prayer and thinking follow me everywhere

The burden of waiting takes its ceaseless toll
Tempting me to a restful fold
But self-pity is my shunned enemy
And Hope a sunny joyous ally

I am certain there is something maturing within
An epiphany, an experience, a new way of being
One day I know my questions will rest
And I will come back to the place I knew “best.”

Where love was once my truest friend
When asking questions were meant to point to an end
When being broken meant you had been brave
And when sacrifice meant that someone else had been saved

I am a dreamer still
But I have a fire in my soul
I may be broken
But I am a God-shaped hole

So I will wait for You, you, you, and you…
My gifts all…underserved and free
Of life and love and things becoming
Can it be all for me?