Oh, that I could be,
A Psalm 1 tree.
My roots go deep,
Where the water seeps,
Flowing from living streams.
Never enough.
Always too much.
Yet perfect in every way.
The fruit in time,
Of perfect rhyme,
Is born for all to see.
Leaves always green,
Fed by the stream.
There's no better source of food.
Feeding my soul,
'Till I'm too full.
Can't contain all I am inside.
Crystal clear.
The Divine is near.
Perfectly succinct.
You too can drink,
Of the LIFE in the water, so sweet.
Psalm 1:1-3
1 Blessed is the man
who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked
or stand in the way of sinners
or sit in the seat of mockers.
2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
What ever he does prospers.
Amen.
1 comments:
Anonymous said...
Love this.. did you write that poem!?
-Your sista