“REST” has been written
and i am grasping the prescription,
refusal on my tongue.
i turn to continue the futile digging,
this incessant searching
for this exclamation marked epiphany.
i scratch at the bottom
and return to an empty hope that,
perhaps, a spot was missed.

i am worn; i am tired.
my eyes bear the weight
in pushing through the daylight.
i am analyzing truth,
not observing His thoughts.

my nails scratched thin and frail,
clutching this heavy prescription.
weary, i drop the shovel,
climb out of the cave
and walk off the refusal.

willingly You accept
the barely-decipherable words.
once read truth spoken out,
my knees break beneath me
and i fall into, breathe in,
understand Your rest.

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