The Raining

Here comes the burning
And here comes the pain
And here comes the way out
And this place is dry.

Dust clouds and dry grass
Turning yellow and brown
Choking breathing coughing
Parched and feeling worn.

Let us draw near
In fellowship with fear
Let us kneel down
And listen for rain.

Some Mornings

To believe in the kind intention of God
Towards yourself
Is easier said than done.

The world, after all,
is full of shit
and you yourself have helped make it so.

But as your anguish proves God right
in every word He said on sin
you will need more than truth.

So here’s a prayer:
Comfort me.