I’m shivering, though it’s not cold.

The shivering is my soul

longing to grasp onto something, anything

for security.

When I am tired

and at the end of my rope,

there’s more, always more.

And I know I have an anchor,

but right now it feels far off

in a deep part of the sea,

and I’m being tossed around,

and I’m fighting to be free.

But the one who calms the storm

can also warm my soul,

so that is what I’m asking now

when I have no control.

4 thoughts on “Shivering

Thanks for heart-composting with me! I appreciate your words.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.