2022 like a train

Photo by Evelyn Chong on Pexels.com

I heard the rumble and shout of a train hastening down the tracks alongside US 60 on my way to work this morning. The train announcing he’s coming through. Make way. Watch out. He’s not stopping.

2022 has been a train barreling down the tracks for me. My baby boys have become men and the empty nest has moved into my world, full steam ahead, whether I’m ready or not.

I told God the other day, “I wasn’t prepared for this! I didn’t pray about this! I don’t know what to do with this!”

Life is passing me by, horns honking, like traffic, while I sit at the light that turned green awhile back.

The good news is, I’m paying attention. God’s got my ears tuned like an owl to the sonar pulse answering his, “Whoo, whoo.” And he’s got my tears- a window display of colored glass bottles full of salty prayers.

The train of time chugs away, and I keep praying, waiting, watching, listening.

45 is a number

forest during dawn
Photo by Anton Atanasov on Pexels.com

between 16 and the day after tomorrow
it’s a disorienting fog
a miry bog
to get bogged down in numbers
of years
years that go by fast
days that go by slow
slow as the answer
that hasn’t yet come to my prayer

prayer
pray
for
days
and days
and years
and then you’re 45
and you pray more like
a person lost in the fog
starting to recognize
the sound of feet sinking in
deep
deep in the same spot they
got stuck in last
year at 44

why do you keep going round
and round like
hands on a clock
tick
tock
stop
turn around
take a step
out to the side
side by side
with the one
who got you this far
down the road
the road is not going
in circles
just time

but you are running a race
it’s long past this
place
you keep retracing
retrace his steps
keep on because
45 is just a number
along the road
the road
narrow
with a finish line
line up
look up
up where he
saw you and smiled
and said
“It is finished.”