Hither and tither I go;
I search for a spot to restock.
I’ve run out of my signature commodity;
My warehouses are full of things in demand,
But absolutely devoid of anything of true worth.
There are those whose stories
Are etched on their bodies;
It’s in every untimely wrinkle,
Each inexplicably heavy sigh;
The weight of each step,
The unconscious stoop,
The wary glance,
The weary countenance,
The shallow smile.
One foot in front of the other;
On a diet of milk and honey,
Easy does it, they say,
That’s how to walk.
“Oh, that the Lord would bless His people, and cause them to see as He sees; the beauty of all He created, the profoundness in purpose, the infiniteness of blessed potential.” – Makafui.
To the Ever-present Help in times of trouble;
The King Eternal, All-Mighty, Gracious, Kind;
He whose Glory fills the earth to saturation,
Each square inch, phenomena, snippet of time
And space and breath and thought, captivated.