no middle of the night
social media stuff,
no need for spin,
no lies feeding lies,
just whispers of grace.
not sitting resolutely behind
a desk, your sharpie in your hand,
but the Word cooking
breakfast on the beach.
not walking roughshod
over the vulnerable,
but with feet covered
from the dust of death
and the ashes of our dreams.
you utter your hopes
and all creation quivers –
not in terror
but in delight.
so as we continue
to believe we run the show,
shake us out of our
arrogance, our apathy,
our blind worship of idols
who walk with clay feet.
social media stuff,
no need for spin,
no lies feeding lies,
just whispers of grace.
not sitting resolutely behind
a desk, your sharpie in your hand,
but the Word cooking
breakfast on the beach.
not walking roughshod
over the vulnerable,
but with feet covered
from the dust of death
and the ashes of our dreams.
you utter your hopes
and all creation quivers –
not in terror
but in delight.
so as we continue
to believe we run the show,
shake us out of our
arrogance, our apathy,
our blind worship of idols
who walk with clay feet.
(c) 2025 Thom M. Shuman
Venmo: @Thom-Shuman
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