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East of my doubt, West of my past October 19, 2007

Posted by vsap in Poetry, Uncategorized.

Dust of a spiritual drought is choking my sympathy,

drying up my empathy, stealing my breath of caring.

I usually try to crawl through this Death Valley alone

but it’s never a good idea and there will probably need to be

someone to pull me through it this time, like the last.

Tarantulas and scorpions, those deadly cousins,

they like to sniff around if they smell weakness and

I admit from time to time I get bit but it tells me

I’m still livin’ even when I feel the pain and bleed.

I can’t eat rattlers even if I catch ’em and I can’t see

my sin for my pride and it keeps me thristier still.

A long barren soul is redeemed I heard and I know the

sweet water of the Spirit pours over a dam somewhere

east of my doubt and west of my past.



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