I am Adam's flesh and Adam's bone

And somehow, You chose me to rule on thrones

Over everything You sang into creation

Out there in the darkness before dawn.

The one with eyes too blind to see

That You were there each time I needed You

To push me ashore once again. 

The doubtful unbeliever

Afraid to follow You down that cliff

Breathe on me again.

I am a dragon of my greed

Strip away everything that’s not of You.

Expose what's underneath.

I disobey your signs.

With each new sunrise, I forget your words

Will you guide me still?

Too distracted with the world around me

That I would not live and die for Your country

Over the sea. 

I am Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone

A betrayer who deserves this condemnation

But when I look in Your eyes

I know You will save me again.

I try to take it all in: 

the hammock that swings 

back    and      forth 

with tired groans and creaks, 

a pendulum under my

weight. 

the self-absorbed bird 

which squawks

overhead 

every

two seconds, 

precise like the promise 

the sun will rise in the morning. 

I try to take it all in:

the way the trees         reach out their branches 

when the breeze brushes by 

      but then

coil their arms back 

to their sides again.

the sudden wisps of a flowery aroma 

when it hits my nostrils 

with every steady breath, 

peace in the eye of a hurricane. 

the patter of my dog’s footsteps

as she comes over to be pet

reminds me

I used to run outside as a child,

in awe of the beauty of the world,

seeing God for the first time in His creation.

I want to take it all in. 

I want to see for the first time.