I Wondered What It Was

I Felt Someone Should Personally Thank Every Rock Out There For The Human Misery It Had Absorbed. We Should Kiss Them One By One & Say, We Are Sorry, But Something Strong & Lasting Had To Do This For May, & You Are The Chosen Ones. God Bless Your Rock Hearts.

After You Get Stung, You Can't Get Unstung No Matter How Much You Whine About It.

To Fashion An Inner Story Of Our Pain Carries Us Into The Heart Of It, Which Is Where Rebirth Inevitably Occurs.

You've Got To Figure Out Which End Of The Needle You're Gon' Be, The One That's Fastened To The Thread Or The End That Pierces The Cloth.

So I Taught Sunday School And Brought Dishes To All Manner Of Potlucks And Tried To Adjust The Things I Heard From The Pulpit To My Increasingly Incongruent Faith.