I long for mute mind.
Rising up from tossed-turned slumber,
I have heard 5 words keeping my company all night long.
Onto this present moment.
I am proud of you.
They are not by my own mouth,
nor another, hopeful I believe so.
My mind tells me I have failed.
I didn’t try hard enough.
I didn’t wait the required time.
I could have perfected more.
I can’t believe myself,
or these other well-intentioned lovers: parents, siblings, friends near & far.
I haven’t followed the traditional road.
Running here to find a burning bush,
where deceit has paid long visitations.
I have watched words come promisingly out birth known tongues,
taking all swiftly to heart.
A thorn pricking when turned false.
How could He ever be proud?
I’ve let myself become terrified
to fail anyone else, except Him.
Now, I am out of the boat,
hearing this echoed truth
I can’t reckon is true.
How He calls.
Beloved, let me hear you.
Your voice is sweet to me.
These offerings, small & seemingly meaningless, have led you to see
I AM your whole.
Will you trust I will part these waters,
overflowing you with My joy?
Yes. Please don’t leave me.
I won’t, My darling.
Why are you proud of me?
A Father is always proud of his children, even if they stumble.
He longs for them to return.
You have returned, My child.
You have longed for My love and here you are.
As the Prodigal Son, I shall adorn you with My robe, place My ring upon your finger. We will eat the fattened calf.
My daughter, how I love you. Don’t you see?