And the wind ran around…
Jumping and singing in the sun!
And the wind gave a sound…
Of a thousand children having fun!
Life’s a joy! Pure and precious life!
Life’s a pleasure! Without a bit of strife!
And the wind ran aground…
Like a boat on its maiden run!
And the wind ran around…
And spent its life in the sun!
Hey, God, I know that You’re there!
It’s just that sometimes I don’t feel You anywhere.
I know You’re the spark which ignites
My mind, my body, and my soul.
You turn on the switch, so my body begins
And runs as a unified whole…
For a number of predetermined years,
Until the battery dies, and with it my fears.
I, who am surrounded by many, get so distracted.
For I feel so busy and few understand.
Please turn the flame higher.
Adjust the volume, so You can be heard over the din.
Please, God, let me hear You easier.
I know that You’re there.
9 miles is the same
If short or very long.
How can that be, I wondered?
Could it be that I am just wrong?
Time is different! And not the same!
But who am I to judge
How the clock goes rambling,
As if it is a game?
The clock ticks long and mightily
Always, through the years.
Millions sit and look at it,
Sometimes gracing it with their fears.
Tick, Tock…Tock Tick
Forward and backwards,
Throughout centuries of time…
More than 9 miles.
Many long years.
All of us Souls lined up that day
Waiting for our assignments.
The Angel-in-Charge shouted out requests
And listened to them all.
“Who volunteers to be a pain in the neck
For an entire Lifetime or two?”
“I will!” “I will!” I yelled above the din.
He placed my assignment within my head,
And told me to begin.
On the way down, as my head began to throb,
I heard, loud and clear,
“Oh,I forgot to mention,
It’s an unpaid job!”
Spelling is wrong.
You’ve been giddy for far too long.
Hair’s sticking up.
Lipstick is smeared.
You run! You jump!
Everything’s a mess!
Chair’s not straight.
A speck of dust right there.
Seeing imperfections everywhere.
You look and look,
Not everything’s in place.
Enjoy the things that are Not out of place.
There are so many more.
Doctor, take your tools and chip.
Repair and make new a fractured hip.
Caress a child and dry his tears,
While with one “snap” you “reduce” his fears.
Put on a cast, and while it dries,
A lollypop lights up some little eyes.
You seem so gruff and far apart,
Little do they know of your soft heart.
So hide your tears behind your smile.
Go and heal a broken child.
What goes up must come down.
I often tell myself so, as egos inflate
And “I, Me, and My,” abound.
Higher and higher, you reach the pinnacle.
Never thinking of the long drop down.
Those whose shoulders you crushed while climbing
Will crush you on your rapid descent.
Slip. Slide. And then a terrible fall.
You sit upon the ground,
While friends… mostly foes,
Watch, with nary a sound.