I was made for Afternoons

O Key of David Come Mystery beyond my control Come Who cannot be boxed Come Who seeks my all, and nothing less Come who comes on the late afternoon breeze in the quickening pace of last minute shopping in excited squeals and overwhelmed tears Who comes in the midnight silence of those Keeping vigil the cloistered ones the mothers the ill in ancient words of emmanuel come.

blurry mornings  weary bones days warm  m inds slow  sitting  waiting longing heart needing  warming despite the weather that day which dawns everything still comes too quick it's surprise leaving  me breathless  solitary as if there is just the child and I as if we two can make the world whole through our shared gaze i have no gift to bring but this torn  tired  soul bent out of shape  a year of encounters leaving their mark  the child  has no wealth nothing    but love