Friday, November 11, 2005

Friday Poetry

Who Do I Say You Are?

I've grown used to being held in statistical regard.
Number crunched,
Numbed and crunched.
The democracy of opinion insists,
There is comfort outside the sample.
But I will not be defined by circumstance,
Nor bow to conventional wisdom.
One thing remains unshaken:
One in a million,
One grain of sand,
100% child of God.


Wordsworth said...

Very Romans 8. Echoes of Jesus' question to Peter? Quirky as well.

Jonesboy said...


Thanks for noticing!

Rhett said...

That's great. Wanna be in my band? :)