Scripps Sunday 10/31

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for when the unthinkable
happens

God, I am blindsided.
What I thought was impossible
…happened.
Is there language for
this disorientation, God?
The unraveling of my sense of order.
The way each familiar thing
looks strange to me now.
Sometimes it seems that the gravity
that held the earth in place has been suspended.
It feels like a kind of unmooring.
Fairness, undone.
Justice, undone.
Trust, undone.
This life I loved, unmade.
I am trying to inch up to even the thought
that this is final. Unfixable. Over.
My mind is stumbling, God,
as if trying to rouse itself from a terrible dream.
When all I want to do is sleep.
My God, help me to know
what to feel,
what to do,
what to pray,
what to need,
what to hope for,
next.
Blessed are we who ask
and wait,
and ask again.
Blessed are we who let reality in
though the body shudders.
God, you are the only story
about the world
where truth and love make any sense.
Remind me again.
Show me the enormity
of the sky again,
stretched above me.
And the comfortable weight
of the earth you made,
holding me,
resting just below my feet.

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