Saints In Waiting
If we were saints
Living the lives of abandoned insects
Under parked cars
With our antennae finely tuned
Into God’s frequency,
We would praise the glories
Of our tiny lives,
The stray fast-food crumbs,
A patch of dew-laden crabgrass.
Behold this mighty river of asphalt,
My children,
And fear not the larger beasts.
We are the chosen,
And through our selfless purity
We shall inherit this earth.
Not long now,
Our time to come.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Saying The Word
It’s easy not to believe,
To scoff at the personification of God,
The majestic bearded man
Who decides everything,
The prayer specific saints,
The miraculous interceding angels,
The signs and symbols.
But alone in the dark,
Surrounded by the suffering of this world
I find myself praying,
Saying the word.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)