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talking to myself

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A garden

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A garden

It seems that I want so many things,

and in the pile of desires, God is in there somewhere.

Sad to say my heart is scattered lying in the sand

it‘s pieces like dark shards of glass lying motionless,

in the barren landscape.

Often distracted from the one thing necessary,

yet aware of the love pursuing me

I often seek suffering over joy,

stubborn in my oft childish rebellion.

I know of those who fly straight to the target,

some are my friends,

yet I zig and zag up and down the mountain

lost in the maze of my own failures.

I over-think and under-do,

yet called, I fight against it,

such a fool I can be;

yet healing love seeks me.

I often don’t understand the person I am becoming,

yet grace is a work in spite of my zigging and zagging.

Love poured out without end

wooing my soul, warming my frozen heart,

causing a garden to grow in the desert.

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