No.194: Be Still.


Enter: a seemingly legitimate reason to be stressed.

My nerves left.
Better yet, they danced
as mild panic set and skipped 
between each synapse in my head.

My thoughts crept,
better yet, they hid
behind doubt 
and watched hope die.
The death was fast.

The prayers fled my lips like 
a last resort meant 
for some distant genie
checking how many wishes I’ve spent
before clicking yes,
like a clerk stamping blessing checks — 
the sweat beneath my forehead 
would make you think the King 
of the Cosmos
couldn’t handle 
something as petite
as getting me to my train on time.

But alas,
Be still, and know that I am God,
He said.

This poem is just an example. 
This poem is universal.

Chill out.
Be still,
and know
that I
am God.

Cover Photo by Alain d'Alché on Unsplash