ODE TO My Stolen Bible
It is not without deep sadness
Since you slipped from my careless hands
That I consider your location
I never thought I took you for granted
But looking back I know I could have known you more
Yet you’re gone
And I can only pray
You are found
By one who needs you
Who treasures you
More than I ever did
You were my precious possession
And I am lost
That you are lost
And Pray you find the lost-
Or the lost finds you
Where are you?
In a dumpster…
A graveyard for filth
Covered in the feces of mankind?
Are you in a dark corner?
Waiting on brokenness to peer at you, Just glance your way?
Is she lost and lonely?
Poor and wretched?
Is he ready for freedom?
will you feed those with a pattern of past predicaments and pain?
Lord, let the Spirit that makes all things new
Beckon a broken soul to the pages created from your precious breath
Let my loss be someone’s eternal gain.
I miss my Bible
Even though I have 4 on the shelf.