In the wilderness of uncertainty
clad in rags mutely colored,
Stands a man praying silently
with eyes tightly covered.
All around stand the agents
representing benefactors,
Oblivious to his devotion
they put prices on disasters.
High above with silvered skin,
leaving contrails in the sky,
Flies the stratospheric sniper,
in it's wake the children die.
Yet below the constant clamor
there remains the words intoned,
By the man praying silently,
standing still as if of stone.
Every day he seeks his Maker,
eyes closed with open mind,
Asking only loving guidance
and a sip of selfless wine.
In a world that lacks forgiveness
let us laud the humble man
Who judges not his brother,
nor fears what he can't understand. |
Submission Name: The Wilderness Of Uncertainty
