If you shovel enough crap . . .
eventually it will stink to you.
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there is no hope;
therefore i became invulnerable to love.
now even god cannot move me:
nothing to push or shove,
no foothold.
so let me live out my remaining days in clarity,
mine being the only nativity,
my death the final crucifixion
and apocalypse,
as far as the i can see...
('no foothold' by michael r. burch)
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I know if you ask God to move a mountain, you better show up with a shovel... and I am certain there have been times when I was caught leaning on mine, standing in the shade.
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You dig deep,
each shovel full,
Is dirt cheap.
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"Grief does not sneak up. It grabs us, shoves us down, smashes our face in, and kicks our shins."
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I believe,
at birth every man is issued a shovel,
some lean, some dig.
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