Monday, June 20, 2011

Like A Pinwheel

At the arbitrary mercy of winds
the pinwheel spins,
slowly, quickly, madly
or not at all.

Those invisible hands
that guides us or crushes us
gently, sometimes forcefully.
Always in His palms we rest.

Life is not adorned with succour
there are times we must suffer.
Stealthily if not swiftly
help will come.

The winds heeds no man
so stop cursing.
Like a pinwheel
spin freely.

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