Alter of Books
MADISON ELIZABETH
I’m looking around at all these books on the ground. There’s so much to read, where will it all lead? Attempting my best to write and respond, Adding to the foreboding bottomless idea pond; Feeling as though I may never establish truth, Till long past my youth. Then what will be left? Learning does my living theft! I’m always so stressed, Just trying to schedule some rest. How can I even truly remember? Doubt blows hard on my hopes last ember. Short bursts of joy when I erect an ebenezer, Are my only true breather. Why am I here with all these books? As I looked at a book, it took the shape of a rock. In shock my eyes were locked. My disbelief mocked, my mouth gawked, My logic was jolted by this unusual act of a book becoming a rock. Then suddenly amidst this scene, The LORD appeared in all His glory, so serene! My mind did falter, an idea quite unpalter; My heart was stirred to build an altar. For worship I must, Though I am but dust.
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