A Serenity Psalm for the 21st Century

Awake again in the tiny, mouse-feet morning hours
The roaring stillness of a deep morning fog surrounds our home
And the thunder of my heart is in my throat, my head

My brain kick starts, instantly
(There is no turnover here, though I'm certainly out of gas)
And the engine revs:
Client calls
Fax forms
Contract closures
Snapping turtle e-mails await; all hiss, but their bite can be worse
Mileage logs
Phone logs
Claims logs
A forest of logs, made from the corpses of former logs.

Turning off the engine is a Sisyphusian task
Futility at the beginning of each task
And again at the end
Endless errands
Dirty dishes in a burial mound at the kitchen sink, downstairs
The challenge of chores
The lists of lists
Birthing yet more lists.

Be still, a whisper, and know that I am God.

The melee in my head intensifies
The car needs an oil change,
tire change,
Inspection, and I need to
Pick up my daughter after school
Be still, and know that I am God.
Quieter still, the voice, but more insistent

Do I have a pressed shirt?
Chipped paint on the baseboard,
Echoes the decay of neglect of a
Life lived out of balance
Be still, and know that I am God.

I listen for You,
And everything shifts.

Be still, and know that I am God.
My heart slows
Be still, and know that I am.
My head quiets
Be still, and know.
My lists fade
Be still.
My worries are gone
Be.
I am.