Sweet Savior, I am always wandering inside;
One idea is refused from following its natural
Course to the next—I cannot trace out
My fears because I no longer feel them.
Stepping out into the black of night seems
To me a welcome veil to hide this carcess of me.
Yet You have made me bright, given me joy—
A blazing lamp, consumed, not destroyed…
Burning beyond what I can feel in myself,
The heat smoldering in my chest from ceaseless flickers
Becomes stilling embers—glowing low enough
To lull the the outward wanderer, falling into weary haze—
To the side of its gentle warmth.
Sleep, sleep, your angels of grace, monitoring
The overuse of this little heart and body
Sensing that to straing and push itself much farther
Much longer would be less than favorable to the
Condition of strength and stability I find
In Your rest. In sleep You come upon me—
Unexpected, and there I lie, clutched fast
In Your cradling arms—my Sleepless Watcher,
To be guarded, lest in fit of dream I struggle
From Your grasp and tread a weary road
Yet again; wakefulness is my journey, so
I think, each morning unwilling eyelids open.
Eagerness floods me—to do all at once, here and now.
Like a trusting infant I lie in perfect stillness
When Your hand of Exhaustion falls on my
Strength, crushing it to bits with a wave of
Your smallest finger. Each night, a breaking,
A slow unraveling at times—but each night
I cannot but give in to be undone, that I
Might  be held powerles and given strength.
You have been gentle but firm for all the
Resisting I protest with: stimuli that fuels
The body without heart to will it;
Fueling the mind without body to sustain it….
It’s a disembodiment of the natural state
Of soul when my sunkissed cheeks whish
To court the full dance of the night also.