I tally my days,
a quiet inventory—
wins and losses
etched upon a fragile card.
Today, a single W
outshines the L,
and tomorrow dawns,
a tender promise,
small at times,
yet woven with hope nonetheless.
I sought You today,
in the shadow of my helplessness,
in the fleeting breath of praise.
I called to You
when strength faltered,
when weakness bowed me low,
in humility’s soft cradle,
in honor’s fleeting glow.
I needed You—
I called,
I waited,
then turned away,
not because You were absent,
but because my eyes,
my ears,
my heart
could not yet perceive
Your nearness.
The day presses on,
unyielding,
toiling into dusk,
then breaking into dawn again.
It waits for no one,
sweeps forward,
relentless,
alive.
I walk to my door,
check the empty mail,
seal it shut,
and glance once more
beyond the frame.
And there, I feel You—
a single leaf,
adrift in the air,
dancing,
hovering longer
than gravity should allow.
It drifts toward the earth,
then rises,
soars against the wind—
a quiet defiance,
a tender sign.
I know it’s You.
Don’t ask me how—
I simply know.
And the weight of this dismal day
lifts,
light as a feather,
light as that leaf—
once dead,
now unbound,
sailing skyward,
alive,
alive,
alive.
It’s Your still, small voice,
the whisper that roars
above the world’s clamor,
above its shouts
that seek to drown me.
In the silence,
You call:
“Be still,
and know that I am.”
And so I pause,
and in that quiet,
I find the day’s end—
not an end at all,
but a beginning,
where You are.
BB Grey--musings 
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