|
| |
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.
Copyright ©
Maclawrence Famuyiwa
|
|