Foreigner in a Weary Land

Foreigner in a Weary Land

I am a foreigner,
here on this dirt.
I am but a stranger
allowed to wander in the desert.
among those who are no greater
but no less.

Love me for what I do not possess
no fine things to dazzle and oppress.
I misguided left my father's house
and have experienced many a droughts.

But here I am a stranger still
trying to find out what is God's will.
You all are mine
and I am yours
from this time till forever more.

Here, I sit
upon a rock,
and dream and shift
seemingly tossed about to drift.
Yet all along as I go and come
I never forget whence I am from,
and to whom I belong.

April Rising

April Rising

April Rising like a Pheonix - 
No praying mantis.
Lying dormant for too long
I emerge like Aphrodite
ready to pick my grapes.
Better yet ready to release
all the creative juice
centered in my back.
Though I am rooted in this spot
I will bloom
spread wide
bold and in control
of my destiny.
Moveable 
I roam the ground grounded
in search of my destiny.
In the Nothern skys
I reach for my growth
to pick of the tree of life
my new approach 
my destiny
determined.