At the end of each day, before I tuck myself into deep sleep and restless dreams, I knock quietly on Consolations window. Sometimes there’s no answer, or perhaps I am not patient enough for reply.
I wonder if He ever tires of me? If so I know He feels bad, for He’ll visit in my dreams and I awake with blushed cheeks and a clear mind.
In the stillness of my half sleep He’ll whisper me well wishes, and put my mind to rest.
A kind spirit is He, to endure such a being as I.
He gives me life, words, wisdom. Secrets I do not deserve the knowledge of.
An understanding of details that I am not always aware of at first.
When I find no time to call upon Him, when I loose me to myself. He finds me.
He always comes for me, and I am so undeserving. To be sought by the one I should be seeking. Solace.
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