The works that are spoken,
and meant to fix the broken,
are launched into a crowd.

Words upon heart,
but I’m drifting apart,
from an auditorium chair.

They say every verse that is read
goes in and out my head,
and I feel a dearth of knowledge.

But found by the trees,
are my words of ease,
spoken straight from His mouth.

A blue sky set before me,
the meadow of perfect grass,
I sit and wallow in a sweet wisdom.