Recently life has been more than a bit frantic. Working, parenting, housekeeping, wifeing… it has all been pilling up and pulling me round until I am wondering whether dizziness is just my perpetual reality.
And so, as an attempted remedy, I spent some time this morning in grounding prayer. Prayer in the sense not of speaking, but of listening. Of sitting in silence for the still small voice to speak to me.
And today, that voice spoke to my soul in lines of poetry.
Like a child’s spinning top
I launch myself at frantic speed
seeking the velocity
to let me balance on a tiny point of contact.
in my enthusiasm,
I push too hard.
No elegant display of spinning speed,
no ballerina poised on point am I.
I am the wobbling, panicked top about to
in my panic I reach out,
my hand and heart both grasping for the solid ground,
for a source of steadiness outside myself.
in that contact
that I am spinning on a world that spins as well,
and the Master Spinner does not need my feeble speed
To make the world go round.
I can rest here,
I’m spinning still in glorious mystery.