I am, therefore I art

Peace, peace

While the house creaks

And my muscles twitch.

Spring announces its nearness,

And as I walk down slick, slushy streets,

I come face to face with fawns

Whose feet are set surely as mine on the hillside,

And face to face with one

to whom I must be your witness.

Wherever I am, and whoever I greet,

I rest in the palm of your hand.

When I come to the end of my strength

And come to the end of myself,

I find You there. I have nothing to fear,

Your great love is what compels my heart to beat.

Wake, open two eyes

Window, birch, rippling cyan

Whisper beautiful

I’m not afraid anymore, I’ve seen your true colors.

I’ve seen the shade of your soul

And it’s dark as pitch,

Windows opening and shutting, a marbling

Of cowardice and courage, bittersweet

Acrid, sardonic… innocent?

I came in uninvited, not to watch your show,

I came to witness just how much – or little – worth there is

In forgoing goodness, in letting mediocrity form a skin over the top of your turbulence.

I came to show that I won’t let it happen.

Though hell or high water, you’re coming with me,

And we’re not going down together.

There was a curiosity and insight I had as a child,

That I have still, though muffled by each year added to me as I grew taller, and more afraid.

I want to be like how I was before, in the truth of who I am right now –

I want to feel things, not distance myself

From how I see people, how things hit me.

When all the days are full of a battle for what’s been given me,

Physicality eludes me and I wish that I could take some time to let challah dough rise

Or a moment to feel the freezing air seeping through the seams in the house,

Like when I sat drinking coffee a week ago and the rim of the mug reflected a band of sunlight around the room, encircling me.

I want to relive the mirth and delight in your eyes, and the joy I feel when I share in how I see the world, what I find beautiful,

And I think we both find beauty terrible, even fearful, in its greatness.

I am afraid of pausing for too long – when I stop, it uncovers the things that lie heavy on my heart, and there’s too many of those for me to lose momentum.

Each moment, my breath is given to me, and I am reminded of whose I am.

Coming home in layers of wool, I feel more like an itchy sweater than a person. I don’t feel like a person, I feel like a hole in the wall – I feel like shrinking into a ball the size of a field mouse, forgetting who I am and staring at the stars, who tell me that I am something, everything, and nothing all at once.

Though I cannot fathom you, nor your love,

I have both within me

And I know you are working to bring something to light, to bring yourself to my eyes, to show me your Spirit, and not my might.

I wonder at the world you’ve created,

And what you’ve created me to do –

And I’ve become impatient to do what I need to,

To find what I truly long for.