I turned down the volume of life
to be quiet with God -
for I cannot hear Him
over the din of children in school halls,
the vacuum sucking dirt from my rugs
or the traffic sounds on my daily route.
The only sound was the speaking of my failures
and fears as I curled up in His open hand
to find grace with no language.
What will I do with something
I cannot attach words to?
Stop and wait for His poetry, not mine.
I heard the vocalizing of my tears
as they washed my corneas of the world,
making way for new eyes.
My nativity was at the bedside,
sore knees, leaking nose and a vow to
stop assigning God new jobs and accept
the one He's given me.