The Builder’s Son

The Builder_s Son

Measure once, measure twice
Only to have it right
Will suffice

He who transformed
A rock
To water
And water
To wine
Come transform my heart
To wholly seek You
Let me not wander
Nor ever wonder
About Your love for me

Let me run, let me run
To the side of the Builder’s Son
There is none, there is none
Like unto the Holy One.



Day Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The day’s finds lay in a pile before me. Only now do I have the time to sift through them. I will consume that which is for sustenance. One cannot save it over to another day. I’ve tried, but it never works.

Hungry, I cull edibles first. Besides it makes the pile smaller and more satisfying to go through.

Then, I sort. Very carefully. One by one. If it is what I’m looking for, I’ll know it. Most of them won’t be. I gathered them on the run after all.

I see nothing linking them to the bridge I am looking for. Tomorrow I will change direction and try another tack.

I should ask someone, and get beyond my shyness.