a nomad's life

Sounds in the night.
Crickets. Geckos. Toads.
A baby wails- piercing screams
In pain. In hunger. In neglect.
Echoes of my bleeding heart.
No hope. No future.
Destitution.
The earth goes on spinning
The clock keeps ticking
The crickets. The geckos. The toads
continue the music of the night.
I lie here. Waiting.

I close my eyes and pray
Show me Your Grace and Mercy,
Take me to your kingdom
now. Release me from
the suffering and pain. Fill
me with Your Peace and Love.
I never want to wake up again.

Steal me away in the darkness of the night. That I will wake up to Your Light.
Patience.

A cold winter night
The air still and clear
Misty fog shrouded lonely street lamps
It was 12.07am.
She climbed The Bridge
Each step a small victory.
Leaden legs lead the way
With every step a lie shatters a fragile heart,
warmth faded with every lie.
"You are the only one who understands me."
Shatter.
"Let's fly away from here."
Shatter.
"I will wait for you."
Shatter.
No tears in her icy stare
Red hot liquid streamed down
from wounded wrists from
cold broken glass pressed
against cold white hands.
A heart that beats no more
will never feel the pain.
Slowly, steadily, never hestitating
she finally reached the top.
"You should put your trust in God."
She didn't close her eyes.
No courage, no fear.
Just one step. And she was flying.
The shattered heart was no more.

Puddles of hot liquid stained my pillow.
Bitterness brewed.
Nostalgia angrily stabbed at my back.

In a silent room,
so deafening, so torturous.
A face flashes over and over.
Moments from the past
coming to life
Trapped. Alone. In the silent room.

Can you hear?
The gentle lapping of the waves.
The distant chirps of the birds.
The kookaburra singing.
The rustles of leaves.
The quiet whistle of the breeze.
The angry sizzle of bacon in the pan.
The low bubbling of boiling water.
The sweet notes of music playing.
The squeals and giggles of children playing.
The still small voice of the Lord,
gently calling you to draw near, to feel
His warm embrace, calling you home.

Can you hear?
That I will no longer call your name.
Nor remember those words,
vain promises that eluded me.
Nor hold precious those moments past.
I will forget those
eyes, hands, neck, stomach.
And my heart will harden so
I never make the same mistakes again.