keep being afraid
of the things you have done and said;
of their consequences, and of their weight.
sweet and lovely is the image you cherish to bed;
lingering vividly in your thoughts: the tomato, red.
but don’t let your mind wander too far ahead
when nothing has yet to even come to a head.
should it happen, give thanks to God’s appointed fate,
should it not, still give thanks – don’t hang low your head.
for the Lord knows what’s best for you.
as shown in all that is past, and in time, all that was once new.
He knows better every colour and every hue
of the heart and mind you always thought you knew.
who’s to say if the words too few
or the peaks and troughs you at times feel
are not but shards of the chalice He has planned for you?
“Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me:
nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.”
let be sober over sense of feeling, lest be blinded and not see;
let be loving, heart to feel, lest be selfish and come undone.