Trudging through the swap of a miry heart,
Eyes lifted to pray but they fall as I start.
Watching obstacles with a concentrated stare,
But my feet get lighter as I stride out my prayer…
…Now the order of rain has lost its counsel,
And sorrow’s uprising has missed my downfall.
My call for help stolen by thanksgiving praise,
And so I walk in peace with joyful eyes raised.
~Poet of Ephraim
Poet of Ephraim 