let the sweet past melt
fiction
edward w pritchard
Gracious lord, thank you for granting me five minutes of happiness in the middle of life's crashing parade. It seemed to last for years and years. Although I have done nothing to deserve Grace for an instant I was content with my lot in the providential scheme for the Universe.
Listen sweet Lord, hear the sound of gentle pattering of rain on the roof of my temporary abode; as I tend to my daily devotions I am at Rest, a infinitesimally small part of your Grand simulations of Being.
For a moment I felt connected to something bigger than myself. Let the sweet past melt like slumping flesh as I fade away beyond the fringes of being.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment