That big ball of
God’s energy
has gone above
and beyond me.
$$$$
I used to think
and pray and dream
but I’ve lost ink
and heart and steam.
$$$
The beauty in
the truth of good
is just as thin
as stain on would.
$$
There’s nothing left
in my account.
It’s human theft
of spirit’s mount.
$
NOTE: A friend of mine challenged me to write a poem about spiritual bankruptcy…something she filed for today. How—and where?—does a person file such a pleading? Over cellular lines of communication, by speaker, into the void! Who takes the case? We do. We are all members of The Supreme Court Of Humanity.
God has no jurisdiction where there is such a separation of spirit and state of being.
The End.
