Be Still and Know

As I sit with my steaming cup of morning tea. 

Soft spiritual music drifts all around me.

My daughter and my pet dog are cozy asleep in bed,

The rain pitter -pats on the Ashok trees and watershed.

Across the boundary wall the world drenched in the incessant pitter-patter,

My thoughts sometimes blank and other times all a scatter. 

The setting perfect, to pour out my heart,

But, I’m totally empty, in my world all is apart. 

My recent travels and

experiences the whole array,

Brain and  heart totally dysfunctional, in disarray. 

There’s been great learning and joy in my travels galore,

Wonder what one could ask for more?

No one knows that, and life demands to be met head on, 

I half-heartedly sip my tea and then anon.

Flailing wildly for any thought that might make sense,

Outside of my own head and its confusingly tense.

I am floundering in a sea of me. There’s no room to just ‘be’

In my own intellect, knowledge and experiences, drowning scares me.

There’s no time to go sit in a quiet sanctuary,  the perfect setting is fleeting.

Thoughts and memories go whizzing, while my heart goes on beating

This is real life, people, and real life is messy and stagnant.

Memories and reminders all come snowballing…..poignant

 Real life is loud, and I think I’m afraid that if I stop and be still,

Underneath the chatter, there won’t be anything worth saying, nor I will.

 I forget that He calls us to stillness, to a deep sense of calm,

He speaks most clearly in the quietness and it’s like a balm.

In my trying to stay afloat , His presence is sublime,

He makes all things beautiful in his time.

When we are most drowning, He is able to do some of His finest work.

For I am about to do something new.

See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?

I will make a pathway through the wilderness.

I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

- Isaiah 43:19

That verses make me shiver with anticipation.

Real life forces us to be still and know despite the desperation

Our hearts may be as if, clutched too tight to even beat.

I may be frozen – in speech, to thought, in deed , just still in retreat.

I may not see his works, the new pathways, and the rivers flowing.

I may see nothing from the horizon to horizon of my life, yet knowing.

Yes,  He is at work re-creating. 

Me….. for Me continuously working.