A Purpose in a Haystack

Am I intentional?

What’s my direction,

But tracing circles

With no intersection.

Is it where I ‘m looking?

Will I find it at all?

Will I ever run the race

Beyond this crawl?

What redeems the time

From routine’s rocky crags?

Where is my battle cry,

My crusader’s flag?

I plan to speak,

But instead grow nervous

To lift my voice

Is to leave Your service.

Everyday victories accumulate

Like so much scattered debris.

I hope. I wait for You to make

Some tangible use of me.

My restraint suffocates:

A foundational intrusion.

Just speak; Your voice

Clarifies confusion.