Once again, waking multiple hours before my day is set to begin.
Drained before starting, seeking a sign.
Wondering and waiting.
My patience and peace run thin.
Resignation replaces optimism.
A season of famine continues.
Shall I water my thoughts today with sprinkles of hope?
Should I speak what I don’t feel right now?
The melancholy and silence will flow.
Not even feeling like praying for a sign or an answer.
It feels like seeds sitting atop hard ground waiting but nothing is coming to assist.
So, let me have today to just be.
I’m okay with accepting this portion of me.