Lonely is the acorn
from way atop the oak -
tumbling fast through branches,
down past all other folk.
Lonely, not the squirrel
emerging from its hut -
and storing safe for winter,
that lowly, little nut.
Lonely is the acorn,
buried in the ground -
who once survived in sadness,
where truth was seldom found.
Lonely, not the the hunter
who stands behind his gun,
who aims at his next target,
who shoots it on the run.
Lonely is the tap root
that grows down in so deep,
drawing up the moisture,
so life itself, can keep.
The hunters haunt the hunted
with minds so twisted, twirled -
and satisfied will never be,
in this defining world.
Not useful as a mortal nut,
no longer living free -
so bury it, if that's the wish,
but some day it will be...
...a mighty tree in stature,
where truth still grows it more,
and though it very lonely,
has acorns by the score.
A tree that feeds the hunted
and hunters faithfully -
but tree still very lonely,
if that's how life must be.
Lonely are the fragile,
and lonely are the weak -
so lonely are the trampled,
and lonely too, the meek.
Popular the answers taste,
for queries others feed -
and hunger pangs will linger on,
until all truth is freed.
But springs of living water,
is where God's truth is found -
so count it as a blessing,
when buried in the ground.
Numerous and popular
are lies that pass the tooth -
but lonely still, the acorn,
and lonely too, the truth.
©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/-------
Deuteronomy 6:14 (NASB)
"You shall not follow other gods, any of the gods of the peoples who surround you..."
John 4:10 (KJV)
Jesus answered and said unto her,
If thou knewest the gift of God,
and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink;
thou wouldest have asked of him,
and he would have given thee living water.
