...we are dust
Flourish like a flower
...the wind blows
By the place in which it bloomed.
Those who drink
Planted in the
Courts of the KING
Sowing precedes reaping...
“I give you everything.”
YET , my fingers grip the notes
I think will meet my needs...
YOU have given all.
YOU seem to have to prise everything
From my selfish, childlike finger's grip;
A reluctant child with too much candy:
Sick and needy;
Unable to let go
YOUR warm , firm, loving grip-
WISDOM- that speaks reason to a soul
-Resolute on selfish control of nothing-
Does not rip it from me;
Gently you coax it
From my sad hand
With promise of
I wrestle senselessly
With all that I am
To all that YOU are and have.
© Anne Bloem 2008. All rights reserved.
poem may be used free of charge, on the condition that copies are not
sold for profit in any medium, nor any entrance fee charged to a
performance. In exchange, the author would appreciate being notified of
any occasion the poem is used in public performance. She may be
contacted at: email@example.com