Monday, November 17, 2014

A Fragile Hope


            What will it be like,

            Needing to hang onto God

            But too weak to grip Him

            Properly and with a mind

            To fuzzy and disorganized

            To know for sure

            What it is one has,

            If anything?  Awakening

            To a still-foggy

            Morning I should be

            Hiking and Susan should

            Be getting stronger.

            The longer we wait

            The more tenuous

            The knowledge as well

            As the undertaking.

            Our cleaning lady will care

            For certain things.

            As for the rest

            I’ll let them go and hope

            I’ve not escaped His grasp.

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