Saturday, January 7, 2012

tired sabbatical

To go or to stay, I'm asking to hear
to keep or release, these things familiar.
Living in the land of anxiety, questions,
I cannot understand; answers
I care not to find.

I am tired.

Security, I have; what has always been.
But will this be a reason to hold on?
I'm unable to hear, not willing to be still
You might answer... and I am afraid.

I am tired.

And what might they say if I
choose another way? "Look what she's
given up - stupid," could they say?

Truth, I know. No matter their words.
But real are the voices all the same.

Of these thoughts, I am tired.

Rush, rush. Tomorrow, back to the
rushing around we now know.
Will I stand sure or will I collapse,
pronouncing us...


{Written September 25, 2011 in Nashville}

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