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Out My Front Door

Out my front door; I know the way, but to what end, I cannot say. Encumbered by my earthly things, no seraphim, on stainless wings I skyward launch into the cloud. Once Icarus, a boy too proud, brought low to once again embark and hurtle headlong in the dark towards unfamiliar continent, there, rest assured and be content. Though I knew not, it was ordained just to what end His purpose gained by adding to the manifest a guy who never would have guessed the vector of his present course or scarce believed its gracious source. ---------- for A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand written on 04/05/2022

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 4/6/2022 8:45:00 PM
Much to munch on here, my friend. ~ John Paul Jones (out the schoolroom window and onto the ship!). Thanks, Gershon
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