When my soul aches, questions, doubts,
and tempts regret and redoing.
I toss and turn, unsleeping, unresting.
Unrelenting are the words asking,
flitting across the movie screen of my mind.
But when morning comes shortly after it all.
I thank the day, the sun for rising again.
For doing the work of setting and
rising every day without affirmation,
save the occasional sunrise salute.
When day comes, I gather the things that are good,
like pens hidden in my tote or the bookmarked
pages of a book I once read in one night.
I hold the good
to my chest
and I whisper
thank you.
Because although the unresting
may fly in like a freight train,
the rest of goodness is like a soft sound,
like midday shadows dancing across concrete.
It’s unasking and unending.
Soft and resolute.
Powerful and arresting.
Worthy of foolish bursts
of laughter, tears.
Because wow and thank you.
There is so much good.
There is pain,
and there are questions,
yes.
There is so much good in spite,
and because, and through,
and within the pain and questions.
Thank you, thank you,
thank you.
