I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.
Sonnet for Psalm 131
Like a weaned baby at its mother’s breast,
What a great image for prayer this is –
To just be, not expecting great thoughts, lest
We think it is not love drawing us in.
But “like the weaned child that is with me”
Makes me wonder – whose mother wrote this poem?
These anonymous words, so simple, so free –
“Of David” you wrote – a poem for your son?
Rabbit holes I chase, distractions gone wild.
I hear you calling to my scattered heart,
Whispering in love, saying “hush, my child,
Do not worry yourself with all of that,
Just be with the one in whom you can hide,
Rest your weary soul, and let me provide.”
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