by Mark Weinrich
Does a butterfly ever long to crawl back into its cocoon? It’s almost daybreak and I feel like I’m crawling blind. Not a single bird has lifted its voice. How I miss the mockingbird who serenades the sunrise. Queen Elizabeth died yesterday perhaps they’re mourning too. It’s probably a hawk roosting in the tree next door. The birds don’t want to venture out any more than I. So many people are lost in their worlds, earbuds and eyes fixed. Why can’t I be lost in mine? Finally, a dove cooed. Forgive me, Lord, I know you’ve given me the wings of faith and hope, it’s tough unfolding them with all these sluggish thoughts. But I’m waiting on You, Your word is like a table before me, despite the way I feel. And I know my willingness however slow pleases You. Thank You for Your patience, as I stretch my wings. I do not want to rise and reach into this day without You.
Mark Weinrich lives a creative life as a writer, photographer, musician, and artist—all wrapped together in an outdoorsman. He is a retired pastor and nine-year cancer survivor. His writing and photography have appeared in over 139 news stand, inspirational, and literary publications. He has sold eight children’s books and currently has two fantasy novels on Kindle.