Why did anxiety wake me this morning?
Is it a dearth of faith I believe in?
Is it twists in my gut I’ve grown fond of?
Have I let go of the Love that has lead me?
Have I turned to the drugs in my drawer?
Are there not enough lilies in the fields
to consider,
not enough birds in the air?
God, grant my soul
a mustard seed,
the evidence
of things unseen.
Help me look behind me, for certainty,
then find my way forward, today.
Poems by Ken 