kyndallrae

creating me [using words]

Night of the Soul

I have no peace.
Peace is the way I know God–
know peace = know God
no peace = no god

I balk at prayer–
I’m not going to beg
then suffer disappointment
if it’s a no-show

I know by now
God is everywhere,
God is subtle;
if only I have the eyes
to look God will be

But the sun has set
Must I strain my eyes?
the [G]od I think I spot,
a figment of my imagination?
or not?

Eyes play tricks in the dark
I’m too tired to host
that debate within myself,
to engage the confusing conversation
with my weary, desperate eyes.

I need:
an obvious God
bearing candle-light, please,
no lurking in the dark
no whispered allusions to Presence.
Am I held?
Or am I not?

I have not energy
for faith, belief, prayer
no urge to beg or plead
for grace

If grace is truly free,
it can find its way to me
or I shall be

forever in the dark . . . ?

(Is waiting
bravery?
or resignation?
Am I
giving in
to darkness?
Or facing it?
Is sitting still
an act of courage
laying in bed
more noble
than pretending
or numbing
or escaping
this necessary pain?)

By the way,
why is pain necessary?
No answer to that

yet

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One thought on “Night of the Soul

  1. Great poem for Advent! Lean into the darkness. I remember listening to Dark Night of the Soul on audiobook during seminary and it really messed me up for a while.

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