# Living Psalm 71_Mankin

I am standing on a rock in the middle of the sea.
The waves lap at my feet. In the distance, 
I see a sliver of land, hear the call of gulls
swooping overhead. I am alone, naked, 
and yet I am not cold. I feel no pain here,
no sense of loss or fear. The anger,
my near constant companion, has not arrived,
and my grief is muted by the size of the sky.
I am alone.

It is a dream, I think. It is a prayer - not one 
asking for strength or patience, not one begging
God for resilience against the great swamping
problems of the world that beat, unceasing,
at my door. It is not a prayer for belonging,
for helping, or seeking. It is a refuge.

I cannot sit down here, nor rest. There is no room 
for me to collapse and stretch out. The rock
is for waiting, and watching. I have asked 
for a reprieve and it has been granted. I am
numb to the joys that once sustained me
as much as to the fires that consumed me.
This is not the garden, not the gates - it is
nowhere and I am nothing - a collection of 
bones given breath, removed from it all.

I don’t know how long I’ve stood, skin 
against stone, staring out at the world
thinking about how we are all a breath away 
from the thing that could change our lives 
irrevocably. I miss my mother and how it felt
to be cared for. I miss the sound of the boy 
next door bouncing his basketball all afternoon.
I miss the sloppy kisses of dogs I meet on the streets.

I’ve run away and found that nothingness is so much 
worse than love. I am not ready to give up the fire 
that burns a hole in the world and allows God in. 
I am not ready to stand alone, an ocean between
the hurt and me. I will not surrender God’s light in me.

I hear this –
I won’t leave you alone - you can find refuge in me.