©2018 Susan Noyes Anderson
image by Eli Defaria on Unsplash
Sometimes, my brain works overtime,
hell-bent to redesign the past.
What if… If only… Why… Why not…
a litany of grief miscast.
The spirit seeks for symmetry,
a sense of balance and control.
Could not the pieces, rearranged,
have found a shape that left us whole?
And so begins another trail run…
up and down, around and through.
Over, under…where’s the blunder?
Make the nightmare not come true.
The mind, so fertile and creative
tasks itself to bring back peace.
But loss is loss; death holds its ground,
and only One can bring release.
This second-guessing is a trap,
a painful exercise, at best.
Be still; God’s hand is over all.
Give it to Him whose gift is rest.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”