It’s all out of my hands, these hands holding nothing but emptiness disguised as fullness. The darkness descends inch by inch, scrolling slowly down the blank page.

I am waiting on something I have no control over, which is the root cause of my anxiety. I am waiting on something that is bigger than I will ever be. I cannot outwit it or outrun it. So I stay home alone in the dark.

I believe in what I am waiting on, which is improbably unworkable and yet I cannot stop believing. Faith is like that. It is a dogged descent into the mystery.

I have ruled out so many things. No longer interested in discussions, I drop out of them. I find that a profound relief.

The two seas will meet in the unlikeliest of places, the place that I will never find until I become them. Seas have nothing to say in their seamless surrender.

Vicki Woodyard