Prayers of a Tired Mind

There are some days in which that sickening loneliness pervades so many of my thoughts and words that it becomes all that I can write, or even think. Somehow it creeps into my veins like a drug, and the symptoms take years to fade away, like the memories. And then, there are days like today; I look back and my hasty heart brushes past all the feelings and memories of the past. In a search for the new I forget the old, forget the lessons learned, forget the pain. A strange wildness creeps into my heart and turns my eyes from the past; suddenly the green of my eyes sparkles to match the budding of spring. It's a new year, a new day--everyday; I have so many opportunities to change the way I think, the attitude that controls so much of who I am, and even the way that my many moments slip into eternity. Wildly the wind bursts through the trees, no longer shy, but excited, and my heart catches it's thrill. My eyes open to see the silver lining on the clouds as the sun is sinking low; buds suddenly burst from branches of trees and bushes, the many, many bird songs are heard romancing through the twilight sky. As that evening sun sinks lower and lower on the horizon, and all those songs sink into soft coos, and then quiet breathing, my heart also quiets, and my mind starts to dull. That heaviness is creeping over my eyelids, and the warmth of slumber overtakes my bones. Subtly the tenseness of the day melts away until my mind realizes that this pencil has slipped from my fingers and rests on my sheets like a stranger. The wild curls that grace my head lie still upon my pillow, no longer blown by gusts of wind or teased by flakes of snow. My cheeks, once pink, now mellow into softer tones, and as I sleep this light will flicker, to and fro, dim and brighter, like the flickering of my soul. Maybe tonight I'll find the rest that my soul and body craves. Maybe tonight this dream I dream will be illuminated by my mind. Maybe tonight I'll close my eyes, not exhausted from never going anywhere, but rather preparing for a day in which every breath is a moment in which I can live to the fullest. And again my prayer will rise to God, a fragrance from my lips: create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me; teach me to number my days, to apply my heart unto wisdom. Oh God, my God, earnestly will I again seek You.