Here, I sit rocking
worried whispers making a way
down my silenced heart. You should
call and check. Do what you’re
asked, before I bury you with much
guilt. Enough to taste dirt when you
swallow. Oh what, you going to cry
again? Baby. That’s what you are.
Such a child. Daddy says, wait and
be still. You don’t get anything
accomplished by watching leaves
fall. You need to be productive,
even forceful if you want to be
successful. Don’t you want that?
You’ve made, what, maybe five
dollars from a book that will most
likely never be a best seller. Not with
seven pieces of your insane cries for
Jesus to come hold you. Show His
face to you. Look in your eyes and
tell you: Darling, you don’t have to
try so hard to make me love you.
I already do. Always have. Always
will. You are living in a fantasy world,
if you think for one second you can
get through this life waiting on
someone you can’t see. You know
how well that worked out with your
first real “love.” Didn’t he say you
could put anything into words? Buy
all your books because money was
not an issue? Love you forever &
always, as you sung along with
Taylor Swift? Or that night
he pointed to your heart, saying:
I love you and only you. And you
cried? No wonder he left. How do
you know He first loved you is true?
Sure, He died on a cross, bleeding
so you wouldn’t have to believe
these condemning stones I am
bruising you with. Black & blue
is better looking on you anyway.
He denied my gift to give Him
all of this broken earth, my request
to turn stones to bread, or be lifted
high by angel embrace.
He told me to get away, to love Him only.
Man cannot live on bread alone.
Do not test Me.
What kind of love is this, if you can’t
offer gifts or ask questions?
Shouldn’t you see His glory?
You can’t see good, so how will you
know these plans are prospering
if He never shows His face?