On nights like tonight when I can't sleep, I come out here sometimes and sit on the porch. The cool night air sucks the heat from my body, leaving me calmer. And more than picking up a phone or texting a friend or even the person beside me in bed... the rhythmic insect sounds and clouds passing overhead remind me I'm not alone- I'm part of something bigger. And even though in this moment my head is so fast and I can't keep up, there's a certain sense to it. That's not to say I'm out here thinking that things all work out just fine with a little faith. I don't believe in an intrinsically beautiful plan made expressly to delight our souls. Rather... I think, because of the stars and the crickets and wet grass... I can hang on until I'm once again in a season of... of what? Not joy, not order, not rightness 'cause it's right even when it's wrong... just of knowing where my soul is without having to come place it in time and space here, deliberately, under the stars like this.
I promised I’d sit with you
under the moon, drinking wine,
figuring it out.
But sometimes it’s easier to stop
a speeding train
than to move someone’s sorrow.
I couldn’t roll the stone away from the tomb.
Tonight it’s just me and the creepy crawlies
hidden beneath blades of grass
hatching out a plan-
frantically-
before the sun rises.
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