Wednesday, July 8, 2009

To Have Life, And To Have It Abundantly...

Like life in a cardboard box,

Caressing the majestic,

Possessing the infinite with intent to sell.


Emaciated with a full stomach,

Still waiting for what was delivered yesterday,

Eyes blind to the sunspots and the spitting image

Of God Revealed.


Rusted.


Our bodies are prisons for our souls.

Or are they?


-Originally written September 17, 2006

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