Old stuff, part 2


This is a poem I wrote a few years ago about the tragedy of a life that does not grasp the dreams God has for it.

“I dreamed that my heart spoke many languages,
But was mute to honesty,
And deaf to it’s own strangled cries

I dreamed I was the bearded Pharisee,
Laying down laws in the hearts of others
While mine lay moulding in the dark, in the dust

I dreamed I was the Shepherd boy
The other Shepherd boy
The one who remained in the pasture
Fingering the pebbles in his pocket
Forever haunted by visions
Of an untouchable greatness

I dreamed all of this
And when I woke
I was on my knees”


~ by humblemonkey on October 24, 2007.

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