Saturday, July 19, 2008

Many believers, many pundits
Many masters, many adherents
The despicable wretch is nothing
I cannot read complex volumes
I cannot engage in dense conversations
Nor can I comprehend human actions
I see all as good -
That, I believe is concealed.
The seed of love, the bud of goodness
But there is no water.
God, like the sprinkler, disperses water
The good-destined seeds are drenched,
They are delighted!
Tears fill the wretch's pleading eyes.

No comments:

Post a Comment