Today it is a struggle to get through each half hour
Hopeless and in a bind
Of my own making
and by what has been allowed to attack
Theology is being refined
no preaching can help
alone I must be
Not that I have been left alone
Quite the opposite
It is a time of my reckoning
A blast furnace to my notions of truth
of life
of faith
What are we doing here?
What am I doing here?
What is life?
Enchanted universe ?
Or trapped in a cold, hard world.
Maybe both
So hard to deal with expectations
I have allowed to define me.
Love
Love is all I can trust
Love is not what I thought it was
I don't know love
Does it know me?
