Thursday, September 5, 2013

may the wind take your troubles away

As I sit in the full morning sun, I look at the woodpile with questions fit for a lifetime. I wonder why my soul wants to wander. A butterfly brushes past me and I know life is wonderful.
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.