A Portable Existence
II Corinthians 5:1 "Our bodies are like tents..."
Nomads we pack our tents daily,
never knowing where we'll stay
the night.
Each tent embroidered with
the work of our lives.
We pack our hopes for paradise...
Shaking out our tents
under an eternal sky,
heaven's watchful eye
we crawl inside our shame,
we murmur the holy name.
The wind blows abandoned tents
—sheets, kiting in the torrents.
We come home into buildings
that never roam.
II Corinthians 5:1 "Our bodies are like tents..."
Nomads we pack our tents daily,
never knowing where we'll stay
the night.
Each tent embroidered with
the work of our lives.
We pack our hopes for paradise...
Shaking out our tents
under an eternal sky,
heaven's watchful eye
we crawl inside our shame,
we murmur the holy name.
The wind blows abandoned tents
—sheets, kiting in the torrents.
We come home into buildings
that never roam.