I wonder if I’m looking for an answer that doesn’t exist

Gold at the end of an imaginary rainbow
If I had an answer
I’d be justified
But what good would that serve?

Yes, here are all the reasons I lack
May I present them to you ladled into a shame bowl?

No
I don’t want answers
Care is what I long for

Constant
warm
safe
care

Where do I go for this?

Do the trees not dance?
Do the acorns not invite hope?
Does the sun not beckon chin upward
eyes closed
to bask in Tender Love?

Which is
constant
warm
safe
care

Which is God.

Bekah Pogue