Lent 31

my spirit measures:
one sunrise for each day
one foot in front of the other
one load of laundry at a time
one breath in, too shallow
one sigh out, too weary
one bill, then the next
one hot cup of tea…
it seems i can barely manage
these ones and twos and threes
but there you go, o god, free as a bird
(so to speak) counting in ages and in eons
leaping from generation to generation
like the ocean is just a hop, skip
and a jump, staring dreamily
at the stars like there’s no tomorrow
and for all you care there might not be,
because these moments are but
the blink of an eye while i
count every second
like it’s the most important
penny that no one uses anymore.
how do you suggest we meet
across such chasms and
confusions, o god,
o eternal jester?
catch me and suspend me
in moments of your wild presence,
i pray, and i will try to set down my counting
(albeit like a dog setting down its favorite toy, so
if i make sad eyes at you, o divine prankster,
know that i am struggling to understand
the holy joke and purpose of
living without measure).
laugh and scatter my ones
and twos and threes if you must;
with faith and a few jitters, i will try to keep up.

on Haggai 1:5

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