questions.

Did you make so many time zones so you never have to sleep? Are you so eager to stay occupied that you made it so when Seattle sleeps, Singapore is eating lunch, crossing streets, trading stocks, testing fate? Busying yourself with helping people do the simple task of just making it through their day? Do you do it all with your bare hands so as not to be idle, to not let some sort of machinery spin the earth for you, lest you have time to rest, time to lay back and stretch out on the valleys and peaks of the Alps, bask in the great suns you've created?

Do you keep yourself busy, so not to think about your lost children, the squandered, the ones who have taken their inheritance and gifts and taken off, and now struggle, since they refuse your house?

Are you not worried? Are you not lonesome? Are you not phased; does it not feel too late?

How can we be like you: holding the WORLD together and so sure? We have all of the questioning and all of the longing; we are trembling and tumbling and falling all over ourselves, and yet you are so proud of us, so kind, you celebrate and cheer us on, you are thankful, you have peace.

It is not to distract for you see it all, and in your rest you move mountains.

What is it that you know that we do not?

- the ending. The very final day to the hour, after all, is that not written in your name?

Posted on June 16, 2012 and filed under writing-.