of chronic depression and aimlessness.

i scribbled in the sand
the words, they stayed for awhile
but the wind kicked in
and they faded in the end.

i pick up a stick and try again
making an effort to drive the message through the sand
even the smallest grain, pushed aside
between every particle, a clear divide.

the wind is strong
an enemy that is hardly weak
as compared to the stick in my hand
the latter is oh so meek.

the little grains fall again
like soldiers into a trench
all that is left
are dots and dashes.

a different morse
jumbled up dots and dashes
no one left to comprehend
a message no one can understand.

i try to leave my mark once more
but today, the wind is strong
perhaps i've run out of luck
and it's nights like these that are oh so long.


note to reader; just pray for you and me. the days are long and hard, but hey, the Lord provides. Shalom my friend, till we meet again.