In the late-night dark
roaches emerge,
swarming out of corners
to scuttle across my mind.
I wake to the sinister sounds
of the vast army of them
scurrying around,
laying eggs of accusation,
leaving toxic trails of mockery.
I am overrun.
By your grace,
I remember you.
And my small prayer
for help
seems enough.
Your voice whispers warm,
rises like first rays
of dawn, brightening into
full morning light,
chasing the hordes
with their cruel attacks away.
I linger in your light,
listen deeply to the balm
of your words
speaking into my need.
I rest, quieted again
by you.