the longest post

With "down time" abounding and sloth the temptation,
I find it hard to reflect on my situation.
Why does it seem that the freer my life is,
the more my behavior resembles a crisis?

Defaulted to autopilot, not fully engaging
the time I've been given and with no purpose, aging.
I'm growing weary of living with no intent,
voyeuristically existing and feeling so spent
at day's end its like I'm undeservedly worn
and weathered from what turns out to be an imaginary storm.

When will the point come that I've had my fill,
when my "self-curing" habits stop making me ill?
I've endured beyond what I thought I could handle
and completely lost sight of my Rabbi's sandals.
I desire again to be covered in dust
from the feet of a man who made true love his only lust.

A bend in the road means only one thing:
there IS in fact a road, and it was paved by a king;
a king who related to frail, flawed characters
and when it was done HIS water he shared with her.

So the dusty water-giver is who we should emulate
and with humility we ought to anticipate
the return of this king who makes his name known
when love from one Joe to another is shown;
when people love despite all their feelings
and engage in community's losses and healings.


Thanks be to Jesus who makes life livable,
who existed to pardon the before unforgivable.




p.s."The thing the hearing aid did for him was improve his hearing."-Grandpa Balfour