Now Where

It wakes when I wake,
walks when I walk,
turns back when I turn back, 
beating me to the door.
It spoils my food and steals my sleep, 
and mocks me, saying, "Where is your God now?” 
And so, like a widow, 
I lie down after supper.
If I lie down or sit up it's all the same: the days and nights bear me along. 
To strangers I must seem alive.
Spring comes, summer; cool, clear weather; heat, rain..

 ~ Jane Kenyon,