On my worst days, I forget what I sound like I don’t know my own voice. I look in the mirror And stare I have never seen that stranger before. On my worst days, You are my enemy, Your olive branch is a nightstick Your words are Like dust And I live in a ghost town With a swinging door the only noise. On my worst days, It is cold outside And my second toe on my left foot is bright From all the blood Going toward my heart Just to keep it beating.
On my worst days, I pray I am not numb, I hope for a tear, A flutter, A furrowed brow So I know I am still alive. The song is always being sung. The rhythm is always beckoning. But still I choose the drone Because the drone pays my bills The drone is annoyingly steady. I choose the white noise Of doom scrolling Awareness causing me to go numb I care so much And feel so helpless It is only when a rhythm breaks my trance When my eyes move to what my ears receive. When I am breathing to live In abundance And I am finally free.
On my best days, I am human, I am glorious, I am kind. On my best days, I breathe fire to light candles I sing songs into spatulas I fly to the next task I breathe in. On my best days, I can see you I listen. I hold you in my arms. And invite you to dance with me. On my best days, I can give and receive. I author my own story. Thoughts are like clouds. I can hold all paradox. On my best days, Justice is my drink of choice. And mercy is my cup. I can keep time And don’t want to at all. I feel each step move through me. And there are days somewhere in the middle The every-days: Where the bubbles from my dish-washing are rainbows And the fabric of my quilt sings history Where the trees are cheering in sign language And I am a buoy for my friends, Never sinking, but still being tossed a bit. We call these days mundane, And they are Of the world, deeply human, Dipping upward to the songs of angels, As humans are prone to do. The every-days drone With stabilizing force For a moving and changing lyric Of creation. Which is still twirling when I sleep And my deep breathing joins the refrain. I see the world in hues Rather than binaries My sight is synesthetic. And there are moments of stillness. And the every-day is redeemed Like I am. If you continue to play your toxic positivity at 120 decibels, Let me dive down deep Where the bass notes Fill my chest, And my heartbeat wakes me up To the liturgical rhythm Of life.
©2023 Rev. Dr. Krystal Leedy
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Rev. Dr. Krystal Leedy…
…is an ordained Minister in the PC (USA) from Austin, Texas. Her Doctor of Ministry dissertation is O Christ Surround Me: A Study in Mundane Liturgy. Krystal has worked as a campus minister and pastoral fellow for social justice and advocacy. She is currently the Assistant Director at the Hope Children’s Center, directing an after-school program. She loves spending time with her husband and daughters, and writing her own everyday liturgies.