“This is Not a Recording”
He is waiting for my response.
I heard His call as a faint echo
vibrant and sweet
dimmed by the clang and clamor
in my life.
He is waiting for my acknowledgment.
I have no quiet in my life
to compose myself
concentrate on His words
and form a reply.
He is waiting for my answer.
I am not sure how I can give it.
I am stretched thin, the laundry piled up
dishes in the sink
a meeting at my son’s school this pm.
He is waiting for my life.
I am halted, one foot astride mid-air.
A gentle whisper loud and clear
I stumble at His feet.
c.Darlene Moore Berg