My feet are in pain From holding my ground But still I remain Enduring the sound Of the enemy’s gain On my position now found
The offensive! The mud and dust Swirling about, pining For my dedication to rust Or me to find my cause unjust Though I waver not My feet planted a must
I cannot say If it is my Head or my Heart that keeps Them in place Refusing to start The process of retreat My resolve won’t be beat
Though I am unsure If I am avoiding or Embracing defeat
I must soon make Distinction between Perseverance and deceit As I know eventually My Maker I will meet Am I holding His line Or withholding Him His proper seat?
All I know for certain As I endure the wind and sleet Is the acute awareness of the Other. The Same. With True love replete.
He loved the lovable And the unlovely What of the pious man’s Calm sleep? The twisted man’s Desperate plea? Though not yet fully forged I know my identity Has garnered The Good Judge’s mercy
And though I can’t fathom Why He bows before me complete And I know not the glory or Depravity of my life’s feat
I am stilled as a child Before the patience of a creek