Clever, kind, and gentle hands.
Words that build up. Ears that can,
be listening and understand.
Do you listen?Do you hear?
Tales of "loving kindness" near.
Fixing broken hearts that tear.
Where is god when I need him?
Is he really listening?
Does he notice when I sing?
I can see him in the stars.
Through what seems like iron bars.
Jails can be a clever farse.
Broken hearts and lives to mend,
God is working as we bend.
Wisdom now is my best friend.
Can relationships be fixed?
Only if god is betwixt.
Aromas in the air he's mixed.
On wings from fairies, float these wholesome thoughts, from blessed books, and bottles frozen from, the fridge that freezes quicker than it ought, I slowly wait, my mind must now be thawed. Ideas too often carried on in haste, though, "fast" ain't wrong, it's slowliness that has, a wholesomeness, it chews enough to taste. I hope that I can slow down to a pace, to hold with hands that carry kinder thoughts, which have been stilled, and can be trusted in. The head must be a precious place, for sure, I'll never treat it like a garbage bin.
Comments
Post a Comment