Wires Crossed
WIRES CROSSED
A confused robot stands on my drive.
Colours shifting, flashing bright.
It searches for a purpose, a reason to thrive.
Stands out now, a bittersweet sight.
Once it blended in, unnoticed and grey.
Now an anchor to memories past.
I sit and watch, lost in disarray.
Tears run tracks down my cheeks;
my heart is vast.
Just then, a bird flies down to rest,
on the robot's shoulder, a gentle guest.
A symbol of hope, a promise kept.
A reminder of God's love, forever adept.
I see myself in its confusion, its pace.
A reflection of my own uncertain stride.
We both search for connection, a steady base.
A rhythm to hold, a place to hide.
Lord, I pray, bring peace to this space.
Guide me through struggles, show me Your face.
The wires tangled, the circuits strained.
Perhaps one day; it'll find its way.
Until then, I'll watch it in the rain
and pray my heart stays light, come what may.
-A traffic light in South Africa is called a robot-
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