VAGUE, AS THOUGH IT MAY BE
I'm returning to the side of my King?
That's how it's phrased in Southern
Baptist songs. I never understood the
nerve, but neither was I ever as forward
as that. That takes some guts to assume.
-
Me? I'll probably get stuck staying here
again, or someplace else, awaiting things
that never happen, or waiting to dine
on foods which are never done.
-
Do sparrows gather twigs and string to
make another nest? Do they never tire
of such routine? I'd have to wonder, as,
page after page, this turning book
brings no new surprises; nothing
seen, and nothing unseen.
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