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Wolf's Poetry

for Jack


Truth, not religion
Like soft rain falling on green canyons
rather than a faucet dripping into a concrete sink
full of cracks.

Relationship, not ritual
Like laying on a bed of sweet grass
amidst friendly trees laughing in the breeze
And knowing that their Creator
made you too
And desires to be with you
And wants you to let Him love you
as you are
And wants you to know Him truly
as He is.

Not to light candles
and mumble rehearsed prayers
with dead eyes
and dead
Souls.


~~Erin Metcalf~~
© 1996
About This Poem

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