Today’s poem was inspired by a prompt for a November Poem a Day Challenge last fall. The prompt was "harmattan" which is the dusty NE wind that blows through West Africa in the winter. The dryness and dustiness of the season provides an apt metaphor of a heart condition that I experience when I am especially tired after a day of ministry.
Also, ever since I saw Larry Gatlin talk about Kris Kristofferson's song "Sunday Morning Comin' Down" in the Country Music Documentary by Ken Burns, I’ve been fascinated with the lyrics and the story. The last two stanza's are heavily burrowed (copied?) from Kristofferson’s song. For a pastor, it isn't Sunday mornings coming down after a Saturday night that’s difficult, it is the coming down on Sunday evening after a full Sunday.
When the busy work of blowin’ Through the duties of the day And tired like weight growin’ From the words I’ve had to say, Leaves me draggin’ in the hallways Closing up the sabbath rest The weary fear like always Rushes wild in the chest. I walk the empty church’s hall The hollow sound of steps Is all the fresh wind of that call; Doubt’s all that I’ve got left I check the doors, I press and lean Into the, What’s my part? A crash bar check of brittle dreams And the dryness of the heart. Sometimes the only wonder is The wonder of the Why? That leaves you empty handed as You look up at the sky. It’s the doubting that’s the burden The wear that leaves you down The weight of all the hurting Of Sunday evenin’ comin’ down The drive home is now in darkness Through my town’s busy roads Where the contrast’s in the starkness Of the lightness and the loads. In a Sunday evening driveway Wishing Lord that I was done Cause there’s something in a Sunday Makes a body feel alone. Ain’t nothing short of cryin’ Half so lonesome as the sound Of a pastor’s mind a ‘Why?-in’ Sunday evenin’ comin’ down. © Randall Edwards 2023 #PoPubPAD #NovPad #NovPad2023 @the.poetry.pub After Kris Kristofferson, “Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down” lyrics © Combine Music Corp.
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