all things hold together

Today's scars reopening into 

yesterday's wounds.

Rhythms of rest

unwanted space for pain

to inflame secret senses.

Slowly leaking, motivation depleting.

Mind knows discipline as an aly,

body responds like an adversary.

God’s crowned creation, a mere six feet away—

drenched in spotlight

captivating attention,

heart feels miles away.

The stage is a cage—

Sunday entertainment.

Looked at not seen.

Heard not understood. 

Used not loved.

Transaction.

The chase for consistency 

as consistent as forgetful exhales.

Enough could interlock 

with these sweaty hands 

and remain unknown.

Maybe relief is future’s resident, 

revealed when we behold Beauty face-to-face.

Liturgical resistance in this middle place—

defying a life void of connection is the waving banner.

If the cost is suffering,

bleeding love will coat the path.

If I fall apart along the way,

my trust will remain with the One

who holds all things together.