I hear my Barefoot humble song;
‘Thank you dear and it’s of course a pleasant journey.
The grass whisper beautiful things to comfort the sole burns
But we infer that only a brief picnic and you are not a Grasshopper
We feel your weak heartbeat, the pulse that reminds
The destined mountain is near by and it never moves.
* I think of Christ’s resurrection on this Easter and feel of the heavy
cross which I carry onwards.