Superball

My mind is a superball
incessantly
unpredictably bouncing
seemingly unable to remain at rest.

Superballs are fun
though they aren’t good for much else.

Like a toddler at play
I move
I move
rarely slowing for rest.

The Father says,
“come touch my knee.”

I resist.
Again…”come touch my knee.”

I do so, reluctantly,
but my mind still bounces around the room.

“Look at me, son.”
I turn to look at Him,
but like the superball,
my eyes bounce away after a short second.

“Look at me.”
I try again to hold His gaze,
a few seconds longer this time.

He remains patient and tender.
I draw an uneven breath and, holding it, look.

There is stillness in His eyes
and love in His smile.

I relax.

How long before I bounce away again?

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