by Ruth Bell Graham
Fleeing from You,
nothing he sees
of Your preceding
as he flees.
Choosing his own path
how could he know
Your hand directs
where he shall go.
Thinking he's free,
'free at last,'
unaware that Your hand
holds him fast.
Poor prodigal!
seeking a 'where' from
'whence,'
how does one escape
Omnipotence?
Waiting for darkness
to hide in night,
not knowing, with You
dark is as light.
(Based on Ps. 139:7-12 in light of Luke 15)
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