Sunday, January 8, 2012

caught slippin...puente

I prayed for a door to open
And packed life in my backpack
In preparation of the call to move
Feet shod and hatted head
You placed the wind to my back
And told me not to turn

~less I am caught slippin~

Into wanting what was behind me
Instead of being greatfilled
For my chance to have three stones
In my desert place altar
And when you set my path
I am ready to follow.