Sunday. . .
a day to pray. . .
a day to dream. . .

a day to rest
and thus re-set
yourself back to the Way–
though it will mean your feet
get wet–
when you re-commit
to the clear flow
of the living water stream. . .

It may be hard,
but once you’re in,
having either slowly stepped
or boldly leapt,
you’ll be of the conviction
that it was not near as hard
as the act prepared
by your forethought’s’ fiction,

for you’ve yet
no real tale to tell
about the change
that’s actually apt
to go quite well,

and, therefore,
you still quake from fear
at how your foreseen future
to your imagination’s eye and ear
does seem.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Prayer and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.


  1. Patricia Preston-Roberts says:

    Thank you from my heart. You have really helped me today

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