WEARY

Weary…even uttering the word aloud drains me.

A Thursday kind of word.
You still need too much energy on Wednesday to say it,
but by Friday, you're close enough to the weekend
that you don't want it to drag you down.

Weary…did you notice?

A passive sort of verb entombed…wear.
But who does the wearing?
Is it the world that wears us (down)
or do we wear (put on) the world
and bear its awesome weight?

Weight…wait…

While we suffer our weariness, we wait
for fearful dreams to come
true and assure us
of our humanity even
as we pray for a hint,
a hint of some divinity.

Divine weariness calls me to my rest tonight
and grants me newborn(e) hope.