Back at the Well

Dear God,

there I am again, fallen on my face, lying down at the bottom of the well. Bleeding and sobbing. Deservedly so.

I didn't trust you. I summed up my dreams to you. But didn't really expect you to help me fulfill them. Or not in time anyway... MY time, the timespan calculated with my negative worldly viewpoint. I forgot how short sighted that is and went ahead to meet my deadline. I am facing it now... the first four letters taunting me.

I ripped my dreams out of your hands and set out to fulfill them myself. In a way so calculating and free from surprises, I left no room for romance, love and adventure. The detours that I love so dearly were cut off from my map. I was being the tour operator and forgot that tourists like scenic routes, not freeways embedded in sound screens.

My hands are incapable, my 'drive' is all gone. Except for a few tiny flames. The flames I wanted to see soaring high, but that I almost quenched. Did you preserve them for me? I thank you for it. 
 

Regaining Sight

These little flames are the pilot lights in the darkness I have called upon myself. By thinking I should build dreams on my own. These lights are my true fulfillment, and my hopes for them will guide me back to you. For without trust and comradeship with you, this 'undertaking' is void of color. 
 

I hereby give you my dreams and again I will not ask you to help me fulfill them. Because I TRUST you to do so.