Gray sky today, accentuating lilacs.
Here I am. The things I dream of

dream of me, too. I am certain.
I want to be back where I don’t insult

God by complaining about the world.
I wish I would believe in God.

It is too cold for lizards,
but the flowers are committed.

I do not want to be a sheep.
I do not want to be wolf either.

I guess I am lucky. I am neither,
though the jungle of anxiety has grown.

How did it ever grow so tall?
I do not want to hurt

anyone. They warn me the truth
will hurt someone, so I withdraw

into silence. A fervent tenderness
has taken hold of me.

I wish God would believe in me.
Life comes at me in fragments

and I love that, yes. A rose,
a piece of bread, another day.