My
hope still comes
Not
from the hills
Despite
what the Psalmist says
Even
though the hills are low
the
sun yet lower
But
from beyond the hills
Above
the hills
In
spite of the hills
My
help comes from the Lord
Who
doesn’t give a Creator’s damn
About
whether I believe in him
Or
worship her
Or
praise it
Him
and her and it being a sort of
Trinity
of pronouns
Them
United
in ignoring my creeds and credos
JRMcF
No,
I’m not writing again. This is just something I found among my “daily poems” on
the computer, already written.
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