On the Dark Days

Another dark day—

the sky, a low, furrowed ceiling;

the skeleton branches, dripping tears,

and all the world, gray.


What have I done?

Drained the azure from the sky?

Stripped the trees of green?

Forever blotted out the sun?


What a dismal, wretched place!

And yet I sense You here—

moving closer through the darkness—

in the last place I ever thought I’d find


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s