The End of Nothing
The End of Nothing
I am sitting...
waiting and thinking.
Really going crazy,
slowly insane.
I am at home,
trapped. (by discretion)
My guy is in the building.
The big white one,
that no one likes to speak of,
even in solemn low voices;
these days.
A simple operation,
an easy thing to do,
unless the rest of the world,
has stepped off the ledge.
I would like to run to his side,
I would like to fly in
and save... the day!
Or at least bring my parrot,
I would hide him in my purse.
I would let him loose...
and tell him to be quiet,
and not get us thrown out.
As he talks and tells jokes...
for hours.
I would like to bake cupcakes...
for the whole third floor.
Then make them again,
as I messed up,
and he, my guy is on the second.
While I am at it...
I will just keep baking,
until there is no more flower (flour)...
sugar and... or eggs left.
I would like to bring music.
A player or radio,
as I can not sing.
They would thank me,
and be cheerful about it.
Yet...
There is nothing I can do,
except pray.
On my knees,
in my heart,
with soul lifted up...
in nearly inaudible request,
blind sadness,
and grateful knowing;
"I am heard."
I am not sick.
No one I know is sick.
It is not the reason,
I am not at his side.
I believe...
that together,
we are better apart. (That is all of us.)
Fear and depression...
have been given no place.
This will pass.
My guy will be better.
He will come home.
God loves His children.
Be hopeful,
even joyful.
Turn on the lights,
and tell the dark...
be gone!
We have liberty and we stand.
We have freedom,
and we choose to believe.
We are faithful,
and not forgotten.
We know this...
this sickness thing...
Is nothing,
in the
end.
Do not fear... God did not give us a spirit of fear.
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