The world seems so small at this moment yet it feels like I’m in a large wilderness trying to grab a hold of at least one hand to understand the weight on my mind. A helping hand to carry this weight along but none in sight. Is it a payment for the things i have done overtime. Is it because, as a person, i find it difficult not to hurt people. It seems I am, but, a wanderer in the desert of learning. I keep on seeing illusions of things that looked like they were. To my demise, they weren’t. All of them seem to disappear like an evasive cloud of mist when the sun comes up.
The stars are my companions for the simple reason that they do not think. They just do their job not asking why or how. They are a presence that doesn’t care for who I am or who I’ve been. My tears only flow to my eyes. At least i don’t see any coming out. Because of this, from the outset I am a proud selfish man, only caring about that that directly affects me. Emotions seem distant to me. I only see them in a distance, like a desert storm in the horizon headed for me but never seems to reach. My understanding of mere English language sells me to my adversaries. they tie me up in chains and falsely accuse me to a judge who is only made up by them in my mind. Oh, I actually realize even my adversaries are that figment of my Imagination. Why does this seem so real? I feel like reaching out with my bare hands and through my skull pull out this brain that is constantly at war with me.
One thing I’m persuaded of is the fact that I am not alone. Matter of fact six hands hold me. Some how they stop my skin from giving way in explosion. These hands some how cool down the rages and undesirable fires on the inside. Some how, I just don’t know how, but, my feet stand even when my limbs are as weak as a reed. The quicksand for some reason seems like it pushes me out instead of pulling me into it. Even when it seems like I’m alone, footprints seem to form before me. My hope lies in that involuntary smile that seems to overtake my weary face in this wilderness. That water that wets my throat even when it feels dry.
I am that which I am because He is that which He is. It seems much clearer now. I am held by an overwhelming comfort none like any my supports have ever given me. I am still in one piece because I actually don’t walk in this wilderness. The footsteps i see are not mine. My limbs are carried, they do not tread. My footprints are but in the invisible vapor in the air. The illusions I see are a cloud guiding my path. Faint words I hear give me strength but from where do they come? From the inside, that’s where. From inside, that’s where these words are seated. No wonder though so faint, they seem to be the loudest. Sweet words of hope and strength. Sweet words that renew my faith in this dry and thirsty land. Words that reassure a tomorrow. Harmonies of three voices all so in sync it seems like one lovely melody. These words make me; I would have given way to the sands in this desert but i still am because of this sweet harmony.
Hold me… and in amazingly harmonious reply… I HOLD YOU