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Wandering Spirit

Did zest for life have a term until dialectal? What comes before the numeral mystical? Only God can discern my soul name. He counts our hair and the sand with kame. I grasp to worship his name as a young soul. To be grateful and to sue God for his role.  I was raised to shimmer and shine as a juvenile. Echoing his faith and leniency and being luminal. I tried to be aware of the ocean's load. It had to endure scraping at the sand. Then spoke something in a hushed tone. And I knew all that before, from the stone. When the lights dim owing to the fading sun. Ideas that once helped now steer you to stun! When tragedy begins to veer toward standing. Don't miss that a good mood is all you entail having.
Written: February 09, 2022
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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Rodrigues Avatar
February 10, 2022 at 10:38 AM
One thing I detect is a love of God.
Kannan Avatar
February 10, 2022 at 6:01 AM
Beautifully said ... Thanks for sharing this spiritual write...
Pandit Avatar
February 10, 2022 at 5:28 AM
Wandering spirit lives on---life is a wondrous journey.
George Avatar
February 9, 2022 at 7:29 PM
From a young age you grew up in faith and in the love of God and it will serve you in times of difficulty when you have grown older. He knows all about each one of us, even the number of hair on our head... ! Then why fear !
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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace