The Intelligent Thrist
I feel intelligent about myself,
Counting choices, weighing my worth.
Yet bread I buy cannot still my hunger,
Nor wine I pour quench this thirst within.
I feel wise chasing fleeting echoes,
Investing in shadows that slip through hands.
I feel restless, though I name it strength,
I feel certain, yet wander in doubt.
God feels merciful, calling aloud,
Come, eat freely, without price or coin.
He feels patient, while my pride lingers,
Waiting to crown me with peace, not loss.
I feel heavy with thoughts of tomorrow,
My intelligence twists like tangled vines.
I feel strong but secretly hollow,
Hungry for words that never return void.
God feels higher His thoughts the heavens,
His ways the rain that wakens seeds.
He feels joy when deserts blossom,
He feels sure His covenant stands.
I feel distracted by noise of the market,
I feel weary of bargains that fade
I feel longing for rest unbroken,
Longing for rivers no drought can dry.
God feels love without condition,
He feels delight when I finally drink
He feels eternal the feast never ends
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