God, I am a shapeshifter.
Hidden in plain sight.
A great disappearing act.
Every now and again,
when I am spinning in a tornado
of other people’s needs and wants,
I worry that if I stepped out of it
to stand dumbfounded for a moment,
my body would cast no shadow.
God, I vanish.
The unnecessary pain and necessary needs
of others feels durable. Measurable.
God, look at how much they need me.
Isn’t it necessary that I am not myself today?
God, remind me of my own goodness.
The way you look at me and grin.
The way the earth can stretch to hold
my own dreams when I remember them.
God, let my stomach grumble and I eat.
Let me be delighted and I laugh.
Let me tire and I rest.
Give my heart peace as today
I am here
as the storm rages on.