Living a life
of constant flight,
Never knowing
Where you’re gonna spend the night.
You say, “Grace,” instead,
Keeping it all in your head.
Nobody knows what
Winds or Stops the clock.
You’re inclined to wind-up
With your mind all made-up;
Rock-a-bye Baby Snot!
Until your end is up,
Dead.
August 6, 2024
“The Lord is in his holy temple;
HABAKKUK 2:20
let all the earth be silent before him.”