His voice is always
in the gentle stillness
patiently waiting for me
to turn down the volume
on my busy life
my thoughts
myself ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
His whisper points
to the turning leaves of fall
and invites me too, to let go --
to shed old habits
to shake clinging fears
and drop nagging resentments
that hang by a thread
and me -- hanging by them⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I take my cues from
the obedient oaks and
submit as the maples do
surrendering to the wind
open fisted ⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I feel naked, void
Not my old self
but not yet who I will be
and it is as I feared ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
-- very cold ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
But it is also now
that I become aware of roots
expanding, stretching to drink
beneath my ground
lengthening my crown
as all is quiet except
for his Word
His voice
and in a half shiver
and half nod of understanding
and a full resolve to trust Him
I sing through the cold
waiting for spring
watching closely
for His beauty in the branches
