For those who imbibed the words of
poets and dreamers along with their mother's milk…
... I could be bounded in
a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space…
For the resident aliens and the homeless…
For the artists and outsiders…
For all the oddballs that don’t fit in a box...
... in a system...
... in a formula…
… life can get...
... complicated.
... complicated.
Because things are not always what they seem and the soul can wear many disguises.
Some people live in chicken coops and have
the souls fitting for a royal mansion… beautiful, even breathtaking, spacious and inviting… with
plenty of room for all who care to come in… especially for all the ‘others’
that nobody else wants, the cast-outs and orphans, the prodigals and the prophets.
They could be bounded
in a nutshell, and count themselves kings and queens of infinite space…
True sons and daughters of the living God.
True sons and daughters of the living God.
Nobody can judge the size of the soul by the size or shape or the condition of the chicken coop that soul inhabits.
Conversely, some people live in enormous mansions and have
souls that would get lost in a chicken coop...
Or inside a shell of a nut.
Or inside a shell of a nut.
One must wonder,
What happened to you poor soul that you shriveled up like a dead leaf tossed around by the wind?
What hardship have you suffered?
What neglect?
What trampling of most precious?
Which abandonment of body and spirit?
What trickery of men or angels did you succumb to that you shrunk like an old hot dog forgotten on a grill?
What happened to you poor soul that you shriveled up like a dead leaf tossed around by the wind?
What hardship have you suffered?
What neglect?
What trampling of most precious?
Which abandonment of body and spirit?
What trickery of men or angels did you succumb to that you shrunk like an old hot dog forgotten on a grill?
No comments:
Post a Comment