The Game

Everything I need is right here with me
All the living I can do I’ll do right now
All I ask of life is she provide for me
Keep me safe, not always warm
Loved, not always held
Just keep me fed and keep me in the game
I see beauty in the storm as it engulfs me
As I’m dashed against the rocks amid the waves
And though the storm, she beats, she batters, and she bruises
She enchants and charms and seems to know the way.
Though some say I follow blindly, I’m an apprentice
And I follow my guide through each and every turn
The lessons are before me
Between my blinks, behind my breaths
And only when I see them will I learn
Though I may never understand all of the answers
The whispers in the shadow in the brush
And though I cry out to my God
Oh, please tell me of eternity
He just shrugs and smiles and says
Hey, what’s the rush?
And if I keep on waiting on yesterday
and tomorrow looks more bleak than today
I may open my eyes, but I’ll never see
it plays me if I don’t play the game.

This is an excerpt of The Rucksack Letters by Steve McAllister. Buy your copy of the eBook on Amazon.com.

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