5,671

Clouds drift by,
Lazy sighs escaping
Their moistened lips.
Their crisp breath
Bites at my cheeks,
And, though my hands are warm,
He swaddles them with his own.
The baffling, immense, aching feeling of
Being in love with him swells
Within me, and I'm not so cold
Anymore.
Leaves shatter beneath our
Simultaneous steps.
Their crunching satisfies,
And laughter ensues.

Funny how sitting
A few seats back
Grants superiority
On the bus.
Four squirrels barely
Escape Death's scaly grasp.
The yellow skeleton rattles
With every movement, and
The ground covered is filled
With red oak.

Home.
Small, but "the only thing we can afford, honey."
The view is of birds
From below.
The stone wall
Chills my bones and
Amplifies the situation:
Why, "Dad"?

The leathery scent of my jacket
Is replaced by orange
Leaves and the brown chipmunk's harvest.
An acorn bounces off my shoulder as
I make my way across an ocean of ivy and
Broken bark.

Music plays and my brain is at ease.
Between each fade-out and start-up:
Silence.
A song now comes on that reminds me
Of rainy days and cold benches;
Reminds me to thank Him
For him.

The tea slips
Down my throat,
And calmness seeps into my skin.
Chattering keys, crescendos and staccatos
Envelop me in mystery,
And I am lost.
Steam rises from my cup and
Streams fall from my eyes:
That music can be so
Enchanting is
Almost Godly,
And almost too much to handle.
Almost.

Cleaning the kitchen,
I say a prayer.
What else can I do to get rid
Of this ache?
The insatiable ache of needing
God's Love,
For nothing can quench this
Want but He.

Fixing something to eat,
All I can think of is
Psalms 66:19.
If He has heard me, why will
He not answer?
The reheated pizza tastes
Bland.

Now appears to be the time
To talk to Him.
Bible? Check.
Open heart? I'm trying, God.
I cry unto him, but
Nothing is shouted back down from
Heaven's Seat.

Time to go.

The ride to the church is
Not long, but
The journey has been strenuous.
Prayer only keeps the
Rebel at bay for so long.
The stampede of trapped demons
On steaming horses invades my quiet thoughts.
What else is there, Lord?
The carpet takes in the tears
And contemplates what it can do.
Nothing.
I see the Lion, but where is the
Gentle Lamb?
Where are You when I need You?

Yawns stifle the tears and introduce
The deep sleep coming,
A train devouring anything
On the tracks.
Trees dance on the breeze, stars
Glitter and he shines, fingers
Uncontrollable.
In fleeting moments, his mind takes off, and
Turbulence is preposterous, every note clear.
All of my world is
Right here, right now.
He is happy, and God is with me.
That is enough.
Nothing needs to be altered
To fit the cookie cutter,
And I'm fine with that.

This is just Day 5,671 of my
Paradise.