MY PALMS WOUNDED IN BATTLE
rain taunted the mood
one drop at a time
like sand through the hourglass
no snow in no man’s land
only poured out
on top of decrepit heads
with expectations over
said heads
it’s snowing too deep
my knees are weak
where is the honor
of contentment
when buried six feet under
the flood…
I float above the fray
holding my hands out
as oil fills my cups -
my palms wounded in battle,
H I S
I’m forever HIS
I am content
oil and water don’t mix
the Holy Spirit wins
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