Ways of providence
There will surely be a guide ~
charting my path,
protecting,
and leading me
to my destined destination in life.
As if it were a promised payment
God made to me from heaven.
A visible hand
tucked out from an invisible tucker,
In a canoe on a river ~
gently rowing me along its flow.
Many near-deaths averted,
Many of life's debts miraculously paid,
many stale breaths,
yet never for a moment ceased.
All threats to my existence –
God canceled them,
sometimes with my sweat,
other times with just a little fret.
Yet still, I never got my feet wet or smelly,
even when I trudged through the sludge
left behind by life's avarice;
not a faint trace of the caprice
that clouds my destined destination.
There has to be only one explanation ~
providence,
not merely serendipity,
For I can see the hands of the I Am That I Am,
whispering their ubiquity,
through a tiny voice –
often feeble, yet ably affable,
I am cognisant of its presence,
especially when I disobey its warnings.
All these are never through kismet or fortuity ~
they are simply the ways of providence.
Case closed.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
