Clear of the wind

            Softests of breezes hits me as the morning light
opens to the sweet aroma of crisp freshness and warm
mocha. Oh I just sigh to be back in a settled routine. Not
necessary to explain my day to anyone for few are asking
and even fewer are listening. Only Jehovah.

           Silently I whisper an inhale. Feeling the sharpest
of winds pierce my lungs. Ah yet I stand in thanksgiving
for being here, being alive. No telling what the day
brings only entering with a prayer and a bag of hopes.

          Carry me, O Jehovah as the tears find pathways
down high cheekbones. Yes pull this daughter back
up, bringing warm strength to even just endure.

          Oh so gentle is the whimper as I exhale. A sigh
falls between the cracks as the hope of clearness finds
root. Still so much is possible in one second, so just
imagine what can happen in a minute, ah hour
or even a day.

        Such a kind reminder I am just dust, imperfect.
Still I strive to keep myself, with Jehovah's help,
singular outside the heated world.

        So clear is what I can hope for, what will be given.
Ah here I give way to leave all my concerns and
frustrations upon my Father, Jehovah. Looking to him
only for the strength. Back to the way I stood before.

        So ah, my dear friend, here we are listening
yet no words are said. One day again, perhaps.

       Yes I am walking, waiting and hoping.