Listening

I come to You in solitude,
Wanting strength of spirit
     to lift me up,
While weakness of soul
     bends me down.

Whispers surround;
     a cacophony of the superfluous,
     a dissonant symphony of the superficial,
Disguised as the melodic essential,
Press on my mind.
Pushing in on the confines of thought,
     but not for freedom’s sake;
Wanting to make smaller
     the mental isolation,
     the spiritual desolation,
That seeks to captivate.

These voices try to cover You,
     try to drown You out,
In their soft and unfocused melee.
Presenting as friends to assist,
Really foes disguised in the
     busiest of attire.

I strain to see through
The tight threads of their garments,
     to the true essence of thief.
I push back, waving away this murmur which seeks
To settle in like a fine mist of fog
     around me,
     to lull me back to sleep.

Instead lay my head close and low,
Listen for the quiet stillness
Where Your voice can be heard,
And wait for You,
To raise me up again.