Thursday, April 26, 2012

yea (psalm 23)

though i find myself
sinking in the sea
of stress and success,
   you buoy me
   with your living waters
          until i am at
                         peace;

though i run down
amaranthine corridors
late for never-ending meetings,
    you detour me
    onto the walkways
          leading to your
                        joy;

though i stumble through
the thorn bushes of a
culture which seeks
to tear my soul to shreds,
    you prepare a picnic
       in the garden of
                        grace;

though i am famished
and malnurtured from
wandering the shadows
of sin and death,
    you hand me a slice
          of life's bread slathered
          with the sweet honey of
                          hope;

though i try to flee
from the very life
i convince myself
i am seeking,
    you slow me down so
                         goodness and mercy
       can catch up with me and

push me
       into your
                          heart.

© 2012 Thom M. Shuman

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