By Kathryn Taylor

When day is done and I reflect

On the RAD-ness of the day,

I often wonder how it is

I survived the mad melee……

I’m overwhelmed and ragged….

Thinking I can’t go on…

Crying out to God….

Cursing the coming dawn-

If you could see my heart…

It’s ravaged, shredded state,

You’d rush me into surgery

Before it was too late-

Yet, each and every morning,

I rise as though from death,

A daily little miracle,

Revived by God’s own breath-

And so I enter each new day,

With the hope of God alone….

Praying He’ll see me through,

Watering the seeds I’ve sown-

May they one day sprout and grow

Into beautiful blooms of joy

As I desperately try to mother

This hurt angry girl and boy-

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When Day is Done.....

When day after day is the same old battle...times can grow very weary....where do you get your hope to go on?.....