Disharmony

There should be tears
There should be a rush of feelings
I should be impassioned
I should be overwhelmed
So why am I so cold?

I hear myself laugh
I consider my expressions
My murmurs and nods
Are they real?
Am I faking it?
Putting up a facade?
Am I simply playing the part
Of the person I think I should be?
Do I read the moment like a script
And select the proper mask?
I don't know...

But I do know one thing
I know the inquisitor is too loud
If the laugh is true, it is due to the subject
It is because my attention is outside myself
Of course it turns hollow when the inquisitor comes
When I turn away from the bright thing outside
To the dim view of my own passions
My skeptic tells me my smile is false
But the skeptic is a fraud

Perhaps the laugh was fake
Maybe the worship was not genuine
But if it was real, I find the same thing
The real mountains become cardboard cutouts
The roaring fire becomes painted lightbulbs
The inquisitor is a destroyer
A debunker who blots out the sun
And then asks why the plants are all withered

I stand surrounded by life abundant
The wonders of Creation shining bright
The glory of the Creator, my Beloved, all around
Waiting to be breathed in
If I could sit still
If I could forget myself
I could take that breath
But my mind wanders
And I pass the Glory by
Ignorant

I watch a sunrise
And in an instant I spoil it
By thinking about the watching

I am all out of place
With my mind and will at war
With every aspect of my being
Disjointed and uneasy

But this is my hope
That is broken thing
Will be made whole
That the patchwork heart
Will be made one
That I will forget myself
And then remember joy

But until then I act
If I am inattentive in prayer
I pray for my inattention
If my mind grows impatient
And wanders from its object
Let my dutiful hands stay the course
My mind will return to them again
If only out of boredom