Truer Gifts
Twelve minutes after two
the blinking red face
confirms as I waken
wondering, why?
I was so very tired
and now I am N O T.
the pulsing numbers push me
back—a book, a bowl of cereal,
a bending black case
with another glowing face
and I click and read,
peruse the people saying
something I didn’t say.
consuming comments not for me
circles where I do not live.
I land with sleepful hope pillowside
thinking, blinking
full and empty at once–
full of other words,
lifeless feasts for my soul
empty in great part because
of this vision and mind meal
feeding nothing.
The hours pass–
red lights proclaim 4:30.
“Perhaps now,” I think,
closing my wordful eyes,
pondering
the manna I never tasted.
And I remember,
“By day the LORD directs his love,
at night His song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.”
Psalm 42:8
I declare in the dark
and drift off,
dreaming of truer gifts–
water that quenches,
bread that satisfies,
deciding.
“Next time,” I say,
“I’ll sing.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
