Infant Understanding

Infant Understanding (written 1999)

Grind and grit I file my frailty of understanding into aggravation.
I am sore of being selfish.
I ache for what I sin to take.
Agitated because I see the simpleness of my cripleness, my longing to understand my future.
Is it that I don't trust enough?
Afraid of the pain You plan for me, I remain as a man in anxiety.
In a field of pride I seek for serenity, so with the very knees I fall to as I humble my affairs to Your feet, I'm now on as my cares beat the dirt and dig frantically for answers.
With the same arms that I lift my distress to Your throne, I now use to shift the mess of brush apart as I rush and dart toward answers.
With the same voice that I declare my allegiance to You, I now use to call for answers.
I can't feel them, I don't see them, my ears ring only with silence. All senses answer with . . .
. . . nothing.
In exhaustion from my toils in this forlorn field of my Pride, at a yield, I reside, torn.
Humanity or divinity?
I shrug in perplexity.
Forgive me Father for envying Your understanding.
Mend this child.