Why lie in silence
Like the silence of this long night of the world,
Where sleep doesn’t come,
And I search the ceiling for signs,
For worry that maybe the silence means something unsaid.
It seems that
Waiting should be done by the dead.
Why shine a light?
Candle-flicker in a window frame
Seen by people I cannot name.
I speak with words trembling, but
Grace in graceless places
Is deemed old and crude, and
This is no place for us.
And when I fail, I wish I could trust.
Why turn the other cheek?
It only makes me weak.
And isn’t truth what we say
When we’re hurt?
Silence before the shearers
Is giving in to fears, isn’t it?
And it’s only ever fitting that I’m only ever quitting.
Casting cares up into thin air
And I know You hear,
But it isn’t quite clear
If You leave me hanging to teach me a thing or two
Or because my will doesn’t match up with You.
(Perhaps there’s something to be said
For the power of a Word).
Sitting still seems only empty
When weights are heavy on your chest.
Will I miss the will of God?
Will your Spirit pass me by?
You say soar on wings like eagles,
Should I flap my wings to fly?
Struggle not, my soul,
Unless you struggle long with Him,
Unless He dislocates your hip,
And leaves you clinging.
Shining and turning and praying and yearning,
For a salvation You cannot create.
I will inherit the earth.
I’m not sure I’ll know what to do with it.
But listening for the beat of Your heart
Might best be done in silence.
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”
(Liturgical poetry for the Sundays between Epiphany and Ash Wednesday is inspired by the Beatitudes, Matthew 5:3-12)