the art of being young

too afraid of being a fool, i'd be one before i'd become one.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Remember you are my child

I am down, in the dirt,
I come around.
Forgive my hurt.
I'm reaching out,
through all my doubt.

You seem out of my reach
Lost, I can't speak.
I am weak, show me what I seek.
What is this that you teach?

Do you hear it pound?,
through your head like you're there,
a tear, some fear, they take the spear
and it is done.
He is the one.
Above him there is none.

Believing and dying,
through this I'm living.
Releasing and giving.
Losing, trying, & sighing.

Real faith is messy.
I am the posterchild.
A mix of doubt and trust.
of failure and fighting,
He looked down at me and smiled,
remember you are my child.

posted by becka at 1:43 AM

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