Birds squawk all around me and the cicadas sing of the dew drying. My dog sniffs what has happened in the night. I am torn and worn, tired of this dance. I am saddened that my contentment is fleeing when I am obliged to pick up my day.
Let my heavy heart of things I've not done be like wind, rising to You. I am grateful, remind me of this. I am all of this nature, remind of this. I am where I need to be, forever finding You when I least expect it. Burn these burdens like this woodpile.