Sunday, November 6, 2005

Words of the Wandering


reckoned by the parts inside
to the place prepared for me
often hollow, filled with pride
far and distant I will flee

purpose carefully composed
swinging hinges oft' distract
swaying underneath the blows
of a path unseen, intact

follow suit or redirect?
promises are not so telling
lingering on indirect
blinding river, raging, swelling

taken on the ride of training
to the place perceived undone
sense and freedom lost and waning
pulled aside as they have won

quick divergence quick repeated
non a stranger to this one
slow refocus claims the treated
polished placement stands alone

brought upright and re-created
i have wind to find a home
made anew and vindicated
support from the only One

peering through the cracks of sin
harvesting the treasures here
witness to the greatest win
triumph borne in simple fear

down the path is taken well
not the whimsy of a glance
whispers of the future swell
into songs of former chance

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