Christian friends, worship, and scripture,
The legs of my spirit stool,
They keep the light bright inside,
Where the Holy Spirit rules.
Some days are tiring and dark,
An immobility in my limbs
Sin like a familiar cloak,
My mind corrupt again.
Then I find my spirit stool,
I sit in prayer to think,
I feel you come to rescue me,
With bread and wine to drink.
Thank you Lord for my spirit stool,
A community of love and support,
Hope surrounds me like sunshine,
On a seat only faith affords.
July 16, 2021
Ronald Whetsell's Creative Writing and Poetry Blog 