Every person has three God-given inner needs: for significance, security and love. If one or more of these needs is going unmet, the void left can conjure feelings anywhere from discomfort to pain to loneliness to despair . . . I suppose the list of ways in which we each react to not having our inner needs met is as varied as the people you see walking down the streets around you everyday.
Sometimes, in our effort to fill the emptiness we quickly hurl our hands out in every direction, hoping for someone or something to come along side us to soothe our pain. We strive and flap our wings and by the end of the day we are panting and disheartened.
This sonnet is about the danger of those moments when you want to hastily fill your own needs in your own way, instead of walking through difficult seasons with circumspection, patience and a prevailing hope that you are, indeed, on this earth for a reason. Remember: as long as you can blow breath into the palm of your hand, you still have a purpose.
Beware the seeping search significance holds
Illumined by imagination
To forge with fiery steel ‘gainst burdened molds
Created inside expectation.
Each calculation of the heart demands
A reckoning of purpose stirred in breath,
Security of body, mind and plans,
The constancy of love untouched by death.
If any need be cavernously black
The soul of man might lift his vacuum wand
To twist the air and hearts and rack
Each counterfeit to press’ed makeshift con.
A thing of truth cannot be got in false.
Attune thy will not to a dirge but to His waltz.
–Jill Szoo Wilson