beside me, gray on red
as I look up, pensive,
pen in hand to write.
how to right this over indulgence,
too full of my own
bloated worry?
I've buried my prayers, fed one
saturated heart with cares
not meant to be carried.
Fasting from the thoughts that also
fill my brain seems a lifeline
in this season where we're
drowning in too much.
I shut the door, shutter the blinds
and feast on silence, making
space in my waiting for the
gift to arrive, though it tarry.
It occurs to me, that like
the Christ child's birth,
answers may look far
different than I expect.
So I make room in the welcome
dark, waiting for the light,
which will surely dawn.
c. Jody Lee Collins, 2016
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