Statutes #83

For I am your creation,

Become more, I cannot.

Like my dust, I am easily moved,

A bottle in your house holds my tears.

In time, with a beginning and no end,

The smoke that fades is my span.

Yet Creator, in you I find hope,

Do I not look to dust for strength.

Forget not my cries,

Thy statutes fill me with re-creation.

Published by David B. Smith

Author, podcaster, pastor, and Big Pappa to my grandchildren.

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