Wannabe

Acts 14:16-17 

16 In past generations He allowed all the nations to go their own ways,

 17 yet He did not leave Himself without a witness by doing good,

giving you rain from heaven and fruitful seasons,

satisfying you with food and your hearts with joy.”

 

Wannabe

 

Rain comes and cleanses … washes the dust of the leaves

Refresh the call of nature with a single tear

Who cleanses the heart if it never grieves?

Who purifies it if no one is to be found here?

 

What is it about me as I search in the early morning?

Hoping to find purpose in the way things appear

What is fancy free when all seem in a state of mourning?

And life appears as alabaster: so brittle, cracked and weak

 

What is a state of bondage when locked up within oneself?

What is the taste of freedom if one is filled with obligation?

Is this not our heritage or a definite choice deep within self?

Forming us into our wannabe as we swirl towards completion

 

Jan Wienen

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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