Some are in endless pursuit
Some seek the forbidden fruit
I fear the voice that is mute
Cry out, “path ain’t fruit nor root!”
The wisdom that shapes our clay
Does so in a caring, loving way
Wisdom, care and love will stay
The clay is toy to shape and play.
One is great
Who faces fate
Before it’s late,
Appreciate
The destined state
No matter how much we debate
Oppose, engage, or calculate
Even try to accelerate
Fate only moves at its own rate.
Futile is worry, anger and hate
Joy is the only worthy mate.
I’d rather be compassionate
Than piously destroy and hate
God is loving, God is great
God my destroyer and God my mate.
*The wisdom that shapes our clay
Does so in a caring, loving way
Wisdom, care and love will stay
The clay is toy to shape and play.