Sunday, May 17, 2020

This part of my walk leads up a hill. Working my legs, I pant. The next rise is out of reach and may be a false summit.

The creatures of the ground dart easily up and down. They make their home on the side of a mountain. I lumber through like a mule.

Lord, let me run lightly through these lands. Let me drop my burdens.

(#1,954)