Hymn Five (Unsung)

Hymn Five (Unsung)

You’ve let me wander staggering, lonely in the crowd.
A thousand faces blur like watercolors on
thin paper. Voices fall
into other voices. I am less a something today—not proud
not gloating, hardly my father’s son, most ambition gone
left to crawl and bawl

and brawl with skeletal dreams of what I still can be,
I think. For Lazarus, You made another day.
Bring the sun up for me.
When another breath seems too troubling, too far away,
inhale and rattle the cosmos to the farthest
star. Give me rest.

Breathe for us both. At three a.m. in the half-light,
the pillow wet, the blankets balled up, all fears rushing,
please appear.
Like that valley years ago, show Your quiet might,
throw muscle onto bone. Churn blood, anxieties hushing.
Tonight, Dream-Restorer, draw near.

Michael P. Carriger