A purpose higher than self…
Attempting to be content with what God has already given me….. Everything is heavy here!
Like birds, my hands flew from 7th story
Windows welcoming ills of city air.
Watching the pavement blend with the faces of pedestrians.
Again, tomorrow I’ll open windows
To stumble through a different scent,same scenery.
Phone rings. Mother’s voice slides
The conscience from its compartment.
Hands return blistered with blood same color as my skin.
Hands show in the outlines of shadows.
Between breaths that hold crooked laughs, forces smiles.
Knees buckle under tension,from picking through burdens in the soul.
Correction to these
Flaws carry weight crushing any
Through the night we lost touch touching on every thing from Heaven to being entrepreneurs. Usually this lasted about three hours before we fell back into the worlds arms.
Could you be content with God….