at the river's edge, we
rub elbows with the
piously righteous,
jostling for the best
position to hear
the camel-coated,
slicked-hair,
bow-tied
evangelist
with his honey-drenched
words;
at the river's edge, they
gather,
the bear wanting to teach
his cubs to fish,
the cow sipping a cool
drink,
the ewe and lambs
keeping a wary eye
on the wolf pack
playing on the
sandbar;
ar the river's edge, we
wait
for you
to take off
your dusty sandals,
and jump in
feet first
drenching us with
Spirit's
new life.
(c) 2013 Thom M. Shuman
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
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