wander

the stinging desert wind
steadily rising as if urged on
by a higher authority
biting, it is hurting me
can i trust it, or will
i be abandoned?

like the blanket too short
for my bed, the truth never
entirely covers my contorted
body, convulsing in an attempt
to realize its message, screaming,
sweating, it won’t find me

can i become? what?
help me, i must succeed
when i was younger, though
still i am, wandering, searching;
help me. allow the fall to be
cushioned by the softness of your
Power.