June 15, 2008

rumbling, stumbling, bumbling

Ahhh Sunday. This Sunday I really felt like the gears were sticking for me. Things went well, but I felt so off... So I wrote a poem.

                           Bumbling Bee

Ambling and Gliding
Through the air sliding 
On a path of w's z's and the occasional q.
I stumble out of my honeycomb home
A comfortable place to say the least.

My senses are not keen as I tumble into the screens
of life. Every moment like a waked napping child 
groggy and surly. But as we sleep we grow.
So. I don't really mind.

How is it accidents can become miracles with a little
perspective and band-aids? Is it perhaps...?
Bigger than us? And what looks like ambling
rambling and stumbling is really
a beautiful thing. to God. to our real friends.

Sometimes stumbling leads to more focus
or broken bones, but as a bumble bee stumbles she never really falls.
So my ambling, gliding and sliding is
my awkward way of walking
thru life
that I may know He catches my stumble 
and puts my feet on higher places.

It may not be a good poem, but it helps me to feel better.