birds refuse to fly

Darkness invades the sky
and storm clouds stoop low.
The birds refuse to fly,
echoing my soul.

I am gasping for life
and grasping for light,
unveiling my own strife
at descent of night.

Which face of me is real:
laughing in a crowd
or an overwhelmed tear,
my eye a dark cloud?

Afraid to unlock my
own dungeon of wounds,
to find no clear blue sky
only a pale moon.

Will someone come to me
who would really hear,
would care enough to be
with me in my fear?

God promises in His
people to delight.
I crave but can’t claim this,
for what is my right?

Weary, I pray for faith
to need just His love,
but won’t someone come say
a word from above?

And now has come the time
to rise, bless this day,
move beyond this - my cry,
run despite the rain.