Tired

It's Morning, Jesus

The world wakes up
with different kinds of glory
with different kinds of disappointments

She did not win the lottery
His plans did not turn out as he imagined
We did not give you our best
They spent their energy on the evening
And left nothing for the morning

So the sunrise was not seen
And the baptism did not wash the sleep from our eyes
Or the yawns from their faces

The magi came to a crowded brain
And a barn
And our applause for you was thin
And they wanted no encore.

Forgive us, Jesus
For how we spend our souls
And invest our spirit
In ourselves
Until physically exhausted
We fall into the pew
And ask for your embrace
With no strength left to embrace you.

Amen