Who knew that such a little thing as that
Could bring such immense release of tension?
Not that I am completely alright
For your voice echoes in my head, periodically
Calling my name
And each time, my heart turns
Before it remembers, and then kicks itself for turning
For expecting anything at all.
But I am grateful for this small cup of water
And I thank God, and you, for it.
It does make me wonder, though
When this cycle will end
The cycle of silence, torment, struggle, breaking, relief, stoicism
When will it end?
Will I come out of this stronger, or more broken?
How am I to grow if I don't even know what's wrong?
But the questions aren't so urgent, for now
God, in His mercy, with His words, has lulled my heart to a quiet acquiesance
Temporary, but I'll take what I can get.
Before the storm breaks, again.
Father, You are King over the flood
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