The Low Hum of the Humidifier

The low hum of the humidifier,
chokes silently
breathing plumes of smoke
into the air,
a false halo,
encircles my daughter’s head
her cherubic face
slumbers

lonely eyes drift
into silent oblivion
faraway places call her,
in this life
instead of friends
just cold steel
an apple clutched
inside sweaty palms

her days begin
rushing down a ravine
the soul
of a soldier embattled
bleeding on jagged
rocks

a nomad
wandering from room
to room
seeking sanctuary

“How can I find her Lord?”

My prayers begin past midnight
are not eloquent but ferocious
groping
a tireless face laying
on floors,
cheeks rubbed raw
as to bruise them
on asphalt

rivers of carbonated
drink
clumsy hands
have spilled
over the years on
floors of dejection
the years that were lost
not dying
to the desires
of my wishes

But a cyclops gaze
fixated
over the only child You gave
as prisoners
unable to escape
the anguish of flesh
constantly apologizing
for its destruction

vapors from my love
rise,
I taste the saltiness
of suffering
not worthy of it
nor worthy of You

“I’m sorry Lord”,

dirty anger betrays

“Jesus,
I am more angry at me,
than at You.”

More shredded
than whole

“Oh God”,
take The Vinedresser’s
knife to prune me"

The other day,
teachers
with a signature
dismissed her from school,
for the rest of her life.
I turn to a pillar of salt
into a pillar of madness
frozen
and disheveled
without knees to pray
weak
my knees disintegrated
into ashes.

“I need to collapse
just rip up the pieces
and go Home, Lord.”

Black tears from eyeliner
do not waltz down cheeks
silence rips the screams
from my heart
so the people upstairs
do not hear
the low hum of the humidifier
join my
sobs of

“ABBA FATHER”

Scriptures tied
to the edges of a mind
as white flags
of submission

“No more war against The Lord”

I laid down my weapons
and arrogance
of sin
snores join the chorus
where angels do not sing

Every word is a plea for escape
every prayer breathing,

“It didn’t work out down here”

The low hum of the humidifier
seems to sing
a hymn of praise
to lift up To The Most High
to say with Job,
and the saints of old
who wandered in dens and caves

“Though He slay me, yet will I trust
Him.”
(Job 13;15)

Hymns the homeless
sing as they gaze into the stars
knowing that HE knows each by name
throwing a kiss into the night
shames me

The low hum of the humidifier
becomes silent
the plumes of smoke
dissipate
the still small voice
utters what cannot
be uttered
I feel the caress of The Lord
bandage
me
pouring oil
and The Spirit sings

The Low Hum of the Humidifier

Matty B. Duran

Joined July 2009

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 4

Artist's Description

Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.”
“For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”
(Matthew 11:28-30)

I AM The True Vine, and My Father is The Vinedresser.
Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit,
He takes away, and every branch that bears fruit He prunes,
that it may bear more fruit.
“You are already clean because of The Word which I have spoken
to you.
“Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself
unless it abides in The Vine, neither can you , unless you abide in Me.”
“I Am the Vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him
bear much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.”
“If anyone does not abide in Me, he is cast out as a branch,. and is withered,
and they gather them, and they throw them into the fire, and they are burned.
“If you abide in Me, and My Words abide in you, you will ask what you desire,
and it shall be done for you.”
“By this My Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit; so you will be My disciples.”
(John 15:1-8)

My daughter Emma is 18 now. Years ago, she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when she was 9. For years, she has had to live with severe mood swings which have kept her from going to school on a regular basis, and from finishing high school.

Daily this has been a struggle for her even with the medications. As a mother, I know she doesn’t want to scream when she is overwhelmed by the mood disturbances. Everything inside of her fights to keep from having these outbursts. This illness has been harder for her, than for me. I know because she always apologizes to me afterwards.

It has been only been God who has given me His Strength. His Grace has been sufficient for me. I know, because I have been single all of these years raising her, and it has been His Love that has kept us both together, and in a single piece. His Love for us, is the glue that keep us loving one another. He has given me patience, and His Magnificient and Generous Love shed abroad in my heart, by The Holy Spirit. I give Jesus Christ all of the glory~

She has described her own relationship with The Lord to me. When she was 7, she began to tell me of her trips to Heaven. Telling me of her visits with The Lord Jesus~She has told me He has spoken to her~telling her that the world is ending already.~Her favorite book in The Scriptures is The Book of Revelation~which she began reading when she was 7.

While she attended high school she often used to preach against abortion, whenever it would come up in class as a social issue.~Often, she would have heated discussions with her one~on~one~aide, Mrs. Lucio. telling her that abortion is murder,then Emma would tell her she was not a Christian since she was pro-choice.~.

Since she no longer attends school, she spends part of the day pacing back and forth from room to room listening to her IPOD. At night she sleeps with a humidifier in her room, due to a sinus problem. She tells me the IPOD she got last Christmas helps her to sleep. Late at night I find the Ipod clutched deep inside her hand.

One night I heard the low hum of the humidifier while I was praying.

Your prayers are appreciated.

Glory to God, whose Purpose will be Done in the life of every person alive today

Artwork Comments

  • vigor
  • Matty B. Duran
  • Ushna Sardar
  • Matty B. Duran
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