Praise God for days that don’t make sense
for ceaseless cries
and pleading eyes
everlasting piles of mess
missed appointments
bills unpaid
wet-soaked sky and tiredness
wounds unhealed
heart with ache
while overtaking days still pass.
Yet things just seem to fall in place
despite my prayer or side-eyed glance
at icons sternly, softly
quietly reminding me
that all is not just left to chance.
There is a rhythm and a rhyme
but all seems so far out of time
and yet
all is conjoined cell by cell
where Joy still sings that all is well
and for what reason?
None can tell.
I only know
His love still flows.
”Living the Question” by Shalimar Masters
September 25, 2018
