I
close my eyes.
You gently
push my hair from my face.
Patiently.
Lovingly.
Every single
time.
I want to believe.
When I close my eyes—
when I see your unwavering tenderness—
I believe.
But in
the light of everyday unconsciousness, I’m afraid to look too close. I put it
off. I elude the quiet moments that would allow connection. I avoid the
stillness behind closed eyes and part of me is glad to find an excuse to look anywhere
else.
Why?
The reason
is encased within this sadness—so close lately. So deep. So constant. Relentlessly
pulling me into its undercurrent. Speaking to my deepest insecurities.
My work is done.
I have no purpose now.
I’ve finished what I came here for.
What else could be as important?
And yet it seems there is truth in your every nuance—
in every
thought that passes from you through me, like electric current charged with unlimited
potential.
I want to believe you are truly giving these gifts to me—seemingly unlimited spiritual sustenance,
so needed in this world.
An hour later
my inner critic starts again.
I'm a fool to believe.
Even if I'm right—
even if this is as real as it sometimes
seems—
even if the pieces are all coming together
and I write them all down—
even if these words and thoughts hold the keys to our very existence—
I don’t know how to pass it on and no one
wants to hear it.
And why me?
What have I done to deserve this gift?
What have I done to deserve this gift?
I'm nothing special. .
Maybe I don't have to be special.
A strange thought, that, but somehow it seems almost as if it is my lack of distinction—
my certainty of my un-specialness—
that gives me the ears to hear.
I want to believe!
Even as I'm looking the other way, I so deeply want to believe.
Maybe it’s
so hard to believe because I need it so much.
Maybe it's because if I
was going to create a purpose for the rest of my life, I couldn’t imagine
anything better.
Maybe it's because I’ve longed forever for exactly what you
offer—
hoped and tried and put my trust in others, only to be knocked to my knees.
To my knees.
Maybe it’s
so hard to believe because without you I feel as if I am nothing.
But with you
I AM everything.
And so, I close
my eyes and you gently push the hair from my face.
Patiently.
Lovingly.
And I listen to your wisdom once again.
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