Father: Help us today
to let thought run
spring-free
buoyant
clear
child-eyed
light-winged
out of the woods
that would stifle Your ideas.
So Love-drawn—Truth-borne
We released move on
out into the field
harvest-ready
waiting mother-patient
to be reaped with joy
untrembling!
The way? Yours to point out ours to see.
