I'm weary, Lord.
Bone tired.
In spite of the fact that my shopping's half done
I need to crash.
The crush
of the crowd has gotten to me.
So, too, the deafening sounds
of a pre-Christmas city
throbbing with incarnate greed.
I need to be reminded
that this season's more
than plastic Santas,
perpetual sales,
and Muzak.
I need back
on the track
of reflection.
I've derailed, Lord.
My emotional fuel ...
