(for Anne)
Are You there…
I cannot breathe,
my chest stands still;
my mind constricts
its attempting will.
I cannot let go,
my hands do grip;
my fingers suffocate,
beginning tension’s courtship.
Help me,
for I feel as if
no one is here,
and I need Your hand
to be this
troubled heart’s puppeteer.
Pick up my strings,
that dangle in shreds;
resew what once
stood mended and fed.
For I have drifted away,
departing from
words, whispers, and touch;
I’m left here hanging
like a doll once loved.
Breathe, My daughter,
allow your body to expand;
make room in your head
for My wanting, guiding hand.
Let go, My child,
allow your strength to waiver;
remember I am forever here –
your faithful savior.
I will help you always;
I have never left your side;
it is those strings that
have detached the Hand
that desires only to guide.
I will mend your strings;
although I desire no control;
I only want to comfort
and to your soul console.
Whenever you leave Me,
I patiently wait for your return;
I never cease the whisper and touch;
My words to reach you yearn.
Do not fret in your
worry, sorrow, and grief;
those are simply opportunities
for Me to offer sweet relief.
I am here…