my place

there's this place i know
my place
it's the place i go
when i visit dad

i can't drive away
so i run
i run down a street
i run down a road to
my place

it's hard to find
i wonder if anyone's been there
maybe so
i'd like to think not
cuz it's my place

you run off the road
that runs off the highway
into a tunnel
of hanging trees
hanging over me
i am enveloped in
security

i crawl through the tunnel of
branches, leaves
till i come to an opening
and a small pond
no one's there but my journal
my Bible
maybe a cell phone
to vent

and maybe i cry again
maybe i'm angry
at who?
you'd think someone else
but it's mainly just
myself

maybe i stab the paper
with my pen
spilling my words
till they run together
in it's own pond of curvy lines
and chicken scratches
only i understand me in
my place

and then i stop
so wordless
full to empty in a matter
of seconds
suddenly i'm so short
suddenly i feel like i'm in the tunnel
it's caving in

"why?" or "help me!"
escape my breath
when i thought i remained so
wordless

senseless

foolish

small

but despite my shouts
the pond defys me
it doesn't ripple or rumble
it's at peace
the Lord calls to me through
my place

and i dip my feet in
to feel it
i see it
breathe it
need it

despite what i am suffering
there's overwhemling serenity
i'm caught up in
the Lord's embrace
even through tears

and i know i'll suffer
and they tell me to forget it
but i can't
i try, but i fail
isn't that just like me?

instead i sit here drowning
in my pain
all the while knowing
He'll save me from myself
He'll save me from them
He'll save me from it all

and there's a powerful peace
like a whisp of clouds
and i realize i don't need this pond

to know where my place is