I have had this awareness that any direction we run, we run into the arms of God. Off course, the staggeringly long run peers quite vexing.
To Arms
I was annoyed
By an atheist
And his militancy
Of inept God herd
And God intimated
Quiet pleas
As a dove on won’s shoulder
I am
Well
Pleased
My child
No madder
Even the serpentine route
Awe leading
To arms
