I wouldn’t know how not to be me

Shirt over jeans the life of the free is all I seek

My eyes may show no ambition but my heart carries the weight of desire

A desire to be

To do

To create

To speak the language of the one who made me and touched my fingers with his breath

Their tapered tips point to perfection as they feel their way through life

Touching and changing one idea a time

I bear a resemblance to my father

I speaking not of the one of flesh

But the one who first called me son

And in who’s likeness my need for expression Deepens

I’ll get my chance, someday I know

These itching palms testify to it

So does the head which finds no sleep

As anxiety sings a lullaby

The unambitious ambitious,

But then I know my place and keep my desires tamed

Most nights they threaten to burn my temple down

While passing time brings the background music

But for the words he speaks to me

A look upon the cross keeps the venom impotent

And the journey bearable

The picture of love he paints find color with the passing years

Like Moses I learn to take off my sandals and draw closer

That the heat from the burning bush may keep me warm

And its light brighten my path from pits and the creatures that crawl in the dark


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