from the infinitesimal,
become physical
from the metaphysical,
our bodies,
precariously tethered
to immortal souls.
These lives,
that pass
in a relative instant,
demanding purpose,
and meaning,
we constantly
seek to control.
A pilgrimage
wrought with intention,
we crawl the path
of broken glass,
on hands rubbed raw
and bloodied knees,
though lost at times
refuse to ask.
Our faces turned
toward the greater,
eyes tear streaked,
the weak-willed
seem to yield.
Yet those who find,
among the Divine,
a deep rooted strength,
refuse to accept
the Potter’s field.
And rising to their zenith,
laugh with derision
at their foolish despair.
Knowing there is something
much greater,
with which we are
guiding our steps
from out there.
M. Zane McClellan
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The Daily Post Discover Challenge: Connection