I have been unguarded —
O God, I confess it!
Day by tedious day, night by long night
I strain and struggle as though
your peace is illusory, as though it is
the stuff of dreams and platitudes
and fairytales at bedtime.
But goblins and trolls are cordial
compared to the fear and violence of humanity
warring against itself, and I have not
guarded my own wounds
let alone
reached out to share
blankets of solace, shelters of peace
with sisters and brothers weary
from this storm, drenched
by generations of
vindictiveness and degradation
against personhood, against the beauty of life.
If there is peace to be known,
O my God, I have not understood it.
If there is peace to be found, I confess O God
that I have preferred to sit myself down
and keep company with
lament
who is a more faithful companion
than peace, that elusive heartbreaker.
But lament has no desire
to guard the heart
or to grant a harbor to love
so I find myself fractured and hallucinating
that peace is foolhardy, that the storm is strength
and I guard myself
with the storm
which is
I think
not exactly
what you recommend.
You are welcome, O God, to surpass my understanding.

on Philippians 4:7

cemetery-angel

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