As a silly  spoilt child
Disgruntled I grumble
Throughout my blessed life
Complaining about my loss
That God does not give a toss

But abundantly  in my life
Scattered in my garden
Live deep hidden forests
Sacred special spaces
Forgotten mossy places
Things I can not see  

In my soft mossy pastures
I am drawn into sound
Soft rich earthy ground
My meddling hands resigning
And my heart softening
To the treasures God is bringing

As a child I am sometimes
still screaming for what
I am not receiving  
Even though chosen
But my loving Father
Always refusing to
serve me poison

But he keeps on giving
Life's unexpected gifts
Full of presents and parcels
An unknown cultivated Karma
A forgotten ignored pleasure
Actually look at all the treasure
Everyday a Christmas tree
If I could only look and see

So in my adult days
I learn to look on
In different ways
With a mossy heart
I nourished and softening
receiving parcels tenderly
passed down from heaven