Brown Study and Wool-Gathering

Waking from sleep one should feel refreshed.

I don’t

My mind, body and spirit  feel heavy with burden.

I am tired.

Pulverized into fine dust, lying in a pile that is set upon the ground.

I am without limbs.

Minus the extremities that give weight its balance.

Existing motionless.

I need a mold and a bounding agent, anything to hold me tight.

Direction, purpose, a cause.

My heart lies beating off to the side, the center of life survives.

There is hope.

Start at the center, work from the inside out.

Continue.

The rhythm, the pang, they talk to me.

Move ahead.

I am here because He, the Almighty willed it to be.

My will or His?

Where do I start? What tools do I use?

Be mindful.

I am forever a work in progress.

Under construction.

If I had one wish and could dare to ask at all.

It’s simple.

My wish would be just pray for me.