Known
Slow down, everything’s moving too fast:
On a beat that’s pushing forward, releasing the past.
But here is where I am;
The cool morning air gently caresses my skin; sirens sound far off: an emergency of sorts, lives in danger, rescued: comforting.
Yes, there are lists, present problems praying to solve,
But this is a 'lent' moment, and I won’t let that get old. I smile; these are the ones foretold.
Apr 8, 2025
Apr 8, 2025 at 5:19 PM UTC
Known
Slow down, everything’s moving too fast:
On a beat that’s pushing forward, releasing the past.
But here is where I am;
The cool morning air gently caresses my skin; sirens sound far off: an emergency of sorts, lives in danger, rescued: comforting.
Yes, there are lists, present problems praying to solve,
But this is a 'lent' moment, and I won’t let that get old. I smile; these are the ones foretold.
Lent is the practice of sacrifice (going without) and remembrance. This year, I am giving up chocolate and will try to write a poem in my new “Lent Collection” each day. Enjoy!
Request permission to use this poem