The Rue

 The foggy bottoms Show me To look up And not back When I’m  Going  In a different direction  Than anticipated 

 May you  Remind me That true joy Is not In what I possess  But what Possession matters  Most 

 Sit back Take the reins For in Your hands  Miracles occur  When I  Seek Your way  Rather than My own

 Please let me rest  In your care Knowing  You’re okay  With an I don’t  Know 

 Some times If feels So hard  To post  My words Feel Redundant  Overused That’s not  The point  I must  Use the  Gift Not letting  It wilt And wither My thoughts  Are so miscellaneous  And jumbled  I’m just  Letting them out I can’t keep  Them with me 

 Lord May I continue  To follow  Even when You feel silent  Even if You’re not 

 As the tears fall I realize  I want  Control  And answers The antithesis  Of faith  Which Is either dormant  Or feels nonexistent  Some days  I need to pray  Then let  It be For worry  Will eat me alive 

 The faith Of a mustard seed I don’t doubt  It’s truth I doubt  You really  Ask that little of me In one breath  And so much  In another  Faith  Active faith  Must be used daily  Or that becomes  As deconditioned As the human body 

 Weeding the fields Will teach  You lessons  You never knew  You’d learn  The hard way  The thorns Prick the skin And cause  An incessant itch The sweat  And soggy clothes  Provide  A sense of accomplishment  That cannot  Be beat The shower  And nap Afterwords  Feel like  A snug hug too

 Live right  And sleep tight

 Lord Give me  What you desire  And may It be  With time What I  Seek