Wrap this day in cellophane
the mercury’s rising
while my heart’s on a distant plain.
Feeling lost and losing ground
I stepped in a pile of grief
and it’s smeared on my life.
Facing weakness like a disease
it declares I’m terminal
and knocks me to my knees.
I’d lick my wounds
but I’ve run out of spit
I want to quit—sick of this,
I’m tired—my patience expired.
Where’d all the sunrises go?
Did they melt with the snow?
I would like to see one
or maybe a sunset
But I’m living in a permanent eclipse
this darkness is ridiculous.
Facing weakness it’s a disease
it declares I’m terminal
and knocks me to my knees.
Flat on my face
this carpet stinks
must have wiped my shoes
on the grief smear stains
which brings the pain,
I’m slain, again and again.
When you think you’ve turned the corner
brutal reminders hover, hinder
it sends you the message on repeat:
Facing weakness it’s a disease
it declares I’m terminal
and knocks me to my knees.
Then it steps on my neck
forcing me to grieve
and bleed.
Gasping for air
I cry out to God
and ask for mercy, please.
Facing weakness it’s a disease
it declares I’m terminal
and knocks me to my knees.
Does the sun shine behind the clouds?
I’ve had my doubts
trapped by silence as violence
God I need you to speak
to this debilitating need.
Facing weakness feels like a disease
it declares I’m terminal
and knocks me to my knees.
Right where God meets me.
Finally.
He tells me to boast
to brag, of all things,
instead of hiding
I’m highlighting
my disease
this weakness and need.
So His strength can shine
through these cracks in me.
Facing weakness may feel like disease
declaring I’m terminal
knocking me to my knees.
But it’s a grace
up side down though it seems.
It’s real not fatal
ushering a metamorphosis
of unmerited favor
moves my focus past this,
out of restlessness
and into a peace
I could not see
before this grace rescued me.
Terminal becomes just a place
to wait for new life
and long for the sun to rise again.
Wrap this in cellophane.
