I look down at the stars on my jumper
as I sigh
And I think of those Peruvian skies
Just northeast of Huánuco.
The entire sky was sprinkled with silver
Like molten metal dripping through a colander –
And yet you promised Abram that many children.
I run my fingers through my hair
as I try
to grasp that what I am reading is happening.
It grows back in patches where I’ve stress-pulled it,
kinking awkwardly beneath my curls –
And yet you know every strand.
I scale down my hopes and dreams
as I cry
at the million ways this world is dying and unkind
and really wonder how I’ll keep going
when the going is so bloody tough.
And yet you gave me my life and have kept me growing.
God the stranger who makes his home with us –
Help us keep on loving
and come quickly, Lord Jesus.