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.

3 comments:

Wordsworth said...

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

Jonesboy said...

Wordsworth,

Thanks for noticing!

Rhett said...

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