(No. 41)How Much?

How much do we grant you, our Yahweh? How much do you claim?
Do we grant you a finger that nudges ever so gently the world we see?
Do you claim fingers and servants that build big and little, that speak warnings and comforts?
Do we grant that maybe you might watch a sparrow? Do you claim by your Son that you do?
A thousand prayers you have answered as your steward cried from his heart.
Ten fleeces you have given your steward—meaning sufficient to keep him encouraged.
Foundation you laid as you prepared mind and heart of your steward.
And now you ask of your steward—be silent—slow down—wait for direction.

Yahweh does not a thing of note without a word in advance—
Prophets have spoken and stewards have been chosen to read with understanding.
What is kept in heaven stays in heaven, and what is released belongs to people.
Childlike ones may serve great moments under the finger of Yahweh.
I wait on higher knowledge—silent—shivering—month by month—
T-minus seven months and counting.


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