Standing On His Rock

One never realizes where inspiration comes from, I found mine while strolling along... a land with beautiful landscapes that wouldn't let dreams escape. One isn't born a poet, it's a revelation of fateful events that are analyzed by an inner feeling... so immensely simplistic and revealing, absorbing the essence of prudence. Some dissident strongly pointed out the strange isolation of an intellectual, being estranged from real people who are more amicable... how would he know how desolation confines that soul in search of a serenity redeemed by prize? Not living on the edge, but tasting the richness of slowness, which controls the pace of the footsteps, always keeping them in the right track... how could peaceful thoughts trigger a violent death? Thrilled to admire a head full of white hair, when that time arrives, and reading names on limestone graves, deepens my comprehension... comparing their age to mine. Walking in the true faith, seeing the wonders and the miracles, and that fervent faith will make me walk in the spirit for a testimony to all believers... and as a follower of Christ, I stand on His rock. Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci