So here I sit.
Not moving forward. Not moving backward.
Not good. Not bad.
How like my life at times.
Just as a snowstorm paralyzes a city,
I’ve seen circumstances storm through and paralyze my life.
O God of all that moves,
of wind that whispers and whirls
of fall leaves that dance on the breeze
and spring blossoms that wave wistfully,
of tides that sway the seas
and crash the shorelands,
that pull the moon and birth babies,
of storms that roll and roam,
of clouds that climb and shift,
then build, then disappear in a wisp,
of galaxies that stretch and turn,
of planets and moons that orbit,
of stars that burn and burst,
move me out of this storm that holds me still;
shake me loose from the snow drifts
that hold me captive.
Push me back into action, into inspiration.
I’ve been so afraid to trip lately
that I’ve stopped walking altogether.
Swirl the wind around me,
fascinate me with clouds racing,
remind me of galaxies growing,
and let me move again.