hypocritepoet

Before dawn’s whisper, I rise— A navy sky not yet ready to sail. A body still heavy with sleep and confusion.

Then, suddenly, the road Is humming an old hymn Empty twilight nibbling Headlights in the fog.

A mind hitting on the Black fuel of morning While silent prayers Drift up to the unseen.

Glass eyes and smiles— Because he knows what waits: A day of light and truth, Smiles and hugs and love.

He calls them brother and sister Like they are lost family, Because they are. Lost in ways they don't even know.

Joy is the hilight, even as The soul knows it drifts Further from shore Than its ever been.

Faces of happiness fair winds One lost in doldrums Prays bring him home.

Or at least in the Right direction.

A Program begins, Lubricating the soul. Eyes glass again and a chest Feels tight with missed joy.

Every synapse is suddenly Alive with memory and desire And a longing to be one thing: Good.

HE is here, there is no doubt. After all, 'wherever One or two of you Is gathered together'.

And that is enough, Even though so many Are missing— So many.

One or all, the break Is no less real. Prayers and prayers And prayers

Because what else Can a lost and Broken soul Offer?

But to ask for help.

Ache and pray. It comes and Is part Of Worship

For what Father Does not wish to Know the failings Of a child.

Not to punish, But to salve And sooth And help.

Like light into A window, Spirit pours Into this soul.

And out come whispers of thanks. For truth. For hope.

For the days to come And their morrows To bring every loving One back to this place.

Of peace. Satisfaction.

And joy.