A Holy Spirit
Today there is no work.
No problems to unravel.
No ringing of the phone.
No schedule or deadline.
No promised to keep
except to yourself:
the vow, made in your darkest days,
to never return,
a pact made in blood, your blood,
to battle the demons that surround you
with peace and truth and the silence that feeds you
and makes you strong.
And so this, a withdrawal from the battle,
you and God and his holy wind,
a reminder to whom you have surrendered,
and to whom you never will, a pact
to admit your weakness
and claim your strength,
a thing that is not yours,
but yours to claim.
About this poem
I am taking a day away today. I will be walking the beaches in Hampton, NH, drinking coffee in coffee shops overlooking the ocean. Thinking. Spacing out. Writing. Perhaps to pain. Allowing myself to refill and God to work. A day of surrender.