It’s not knowledge,
But it is with knowledge
It’s not quite experience,
For that is something else
Good judgment perhaps?
But, no, that’s only a part.

Sensibility and insight
Learned and alert
How can I know this myself?
If not knowledge, what?
Is it some sacred art?

Knowledge I can have
But wisdom still lack
I pray that I might perceive
What this word itself
Means, but also for some keen
Understanding in my heart.

I pray that I might have
This thing called wisdom
So that I might not have
Just another notch on my belt
But that I could learn to be
A true child of God, told apart.