I got a new box of pencils
Every color- red to brown.
I’ve been carrying them around for months now,
Never time to put them down.
Waiting for a time to use them
for a moment just right,
a project worthy of their fresh tips
and their colors so bright.
But days turn into weeks
that quickly pass by as months
And there the box sits, untouched
and blank pages collect dust.
The heart desires to create
longs to connect with Creator.
To capture moments, play with words
and color — co-creating.
But days are filled with type set-
Lunch boxes and errands,
laundry piles and dinner deadlines,
whiney cries to be met.
Snuggling boys awake me, in my bed each morn
And the days blur together- patterns that are worn.
This morning I got up at dark and tip-toed quietly downstairs
Fixed a cup of tea and settled into my chair
At last, a quiet moment
Some white space in the day
I finally open the shrouded colors
And indulgently am going to play!
When little footsteps round the corner and again mom puts down her pencils…
Praying for grace and right response,
I’ll be creative when you’re older.
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| Even pre-sharpened! |