My spirit yearns for escape.
The bonds of flesh burden me.
Rivers of habit resist new courses.
The streams of my failures have dug deep paths.
Now they block any growth.

My soul longs to worship
a worthwhile goal.
Lesser dreams fill my imagination.
My unguided mind falters.
I stumble once again.

I see many grooves in front of me.
Most are very small.
However, together they form a chasm.
I know progress lives in my courage.
I balk when I come to the edge.

I learned long ago that
I only need a tiny seed of faith.
Such faith can grow into a powerful oak.
It can bridge even the deepest crevasse.
I will move forward, if only I would ask.

email: W. Wayne B.

© 2013 W. Wayne B.
Photo credit: J. N. Roberts

Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb