My know has taken a beating.

It’s a ship battered,

sails tattered,

creaking into harbour

hardly worth mending.

Relentless storms have driven it

miles off course.

I’ve tossed all the cargo

into the sea;

lost some sails completely

while others flap–riggings torn.

It’s been a storm.

Winds howling, drowning

out Your voice,

salt water in my eyes

spun around and lost.

So how do I know?

How do I know You are at all?

How much more do I know You are good?

When you let the storm rage on?

How do I know?

I know by how wrong the storm feels,

how alien the ravaged ship.

I know by the yearning

for a day

where the sun shines

and the wind fills my sails

carries me across a sparkling sea.

Sometimes

in the dark storm

the only way I know You

is by how much I want you.