Open Air

I feel a little choked
On the theology of living too much study
And not living enough the breath in my lungs,
The sweet breath that was given me to breathe
Out in the open air, with people and leaves.

The books you’ve put in my hands are the dead leaves of cut-down trees
Filled with other men’s thoughts,
Sometimes but not always aligning with God’s.
To see His thoughts sometimes I have to go out there,
Out in the wide, open air.

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