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July 14, 2005
The one who guides me
It is their golden frocks that scares me, their Jackets of many colors, it is the oppoulance of their state that frightens me, their oiled hair, and sweet scents they spew. For the man who guides me would not be happy with coats of many colors, and would not sit comfortably on gilded benches.
He who guides me would glow within the simplisity of a cotton cloth and would sit beside me on God's earth with no hesitation and he smells the soil that has been his begining. His throne is made of God's attributes within the solace of its nature, and the cloth that he wears have no traces of pockets since all he owns in not outside him but within the frame he carries. He would smell of my brothers that live within the breath of masses, and all the scents of living.
His hands would bare no lotions and wears, but the calessus of his hard work of the life he lives. He would share the morsels of my givings to sustain him, and talks in soft words of love and givings, and thus he claims me with his simplicity.
Posted by Idinraha at July 14, 2005 12:26 PM