O my God, 
this land is dry and barren. 
All around me is 
bleak, 
colorless, 
and 
listless. 
When I do find water, 
and drink of it, 
my thirst increases. 
When I lay my head to rest, 
weariness surrounds me 
with wretched foreboding. 
I look to You for comfort, 
and receive silence. 
I pray for relief,
and find another Cross to bear. 
The isolation of it all 
taunts me 
with doubt, 
despair, 
and 
absolute disdain for Your ways.
I wish for the days when I did not know You 
and could turn away to bask in 
the iridescence of another place. 
But I do know You, 
and I know I have no other place to go… 
…for the coo of the mourning dove 
reminds me of 
the endless depths of Your Love.