Sunday, December 18, 2005

i don't have time:

from errands,
i don't have time to listen:

to my children singing in the tub,
to my spouse quietly fixing dinner,
to that angel whispering for attention;

exhausted from
my latest expedition
to the mall,
i don't have time to wait:

to find hope sitting in my mailbox,
to see you walking with me in the snow,
for you to fill my emptiness;

spending the whole weekend
getting the house decorated,
i don't have time

to greet my neighbor with a smile not a mumble,
to scrape the ice off my heart,
to be rocked gently in the cradle of your love.

hear i am, Lord,
hoping you have time
for me . . .

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

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