(To be quiet. Watchful. Working with hands. Responding in love. Kindness and guidance.)
This still house tonight is the house
He has made for me
out of all the different possibilities,
the different configurations of houses
and occupants. This still house
tonight is the house He has made
for me. Let me not desire another.
Because He knows exactly what I need
better than I do. Because I trust Him
more than I trust myself. This still
house tonight is the house He has
made for me. And this must be
exactly what I needed
despite how stillness aches.
This still house is good and
fills with sound tomorrow. But
what is tomorrow when the house
is still tonight?
(He must have heard something I couldn't make out. A pattern in the silence. The deepest call of this heart bouncing like a mute ball, silently down the hallway.)
Thrown but not caught. Resounding. Throw it again, Sam.