Rough and Tumble

I’ve traveled
the loneliest stretch of road
without leaving the sofa

It’s a place I know well,
one of division
and a gap where hope should be

People leave and don’t come back
the same, sometimes plastic,
sometimes with pieces missing

I’m stuck in place,
pleading through a Sunday afternoon
to a God whose plans seem muted

A church lady recently told me
times of struggle happen
right before good things unfold;
I must be careening toward a masterpiece.