Morning Scramble

Hit,

crack,

plop.

Eggs are beaten;

shells are tossed.

It’s breakfast with

toast and jam.

(Forgot this week

to pick up ham.)

Fire in family room

roars and pops.

Just how I like it

and not too hot.

Another log?

Please don’t bother.

I’ll have to move

somewhere farther.

All at once,

a face is fallen.

The good deed

lies rejected,

un-wantin’.

A door closes.

A stomach turns.

Tears squeeze.

Explaining burns.

But longing tethers;

deep calls to deep.

In the roar of waterfalls,

God’s not asleep.

Enemy may steal

our breakfast peace—

scramble heads,

like eggs,

over-easy.

But Spirit

intrudes and woos

and breathes,

“All my fountains

are in You.”

Sweet reminder.

Real relief.

________________________

Inspiration from

“All my longings lie open before you, Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you,” Psalm 38:9.

“Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me,” Psalm 42:7.

“As they make music they will sing, ‘All my fountains are in you,’” Psalm 87:7.

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