Truer Gifts

Twelve minutes after two

the blinking red face

confirms as I waken

wondering, why?

I was so very tired

and now I am N O T.

the pulsing numbers push me

back—a book, a bowl of cereal,

a bending black case

with another glowing face

and I click and read,

peruse the people saying

something I didn’t say.

consuming comments not for me

circles where I do not live.

I land with sleepful hope pillowside
thinking, blinking
full and empty at once--
full of other words,
lifeless feasts for my soul
empty in great part because
of this vision and mind meal
feeding nothing.

The hours pass--
red lights proclaim 4:30.
"Perhaps now," I think,
closing my wordful eyes,
pondering
the manna I never tasted.
And I remember,
"By day the LORD directs his love,
at night His song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life."
                     Psalm 42:8

I declare in the dark
and drift off,
dreaming of truer gifts--
water that quenches,
bread that satisfies,
deciding.

"Next time," I say,
"I'll sing."
~~~~~~~~~~~~