I’ve stored many garments
in the closet of time
Ones of worry and concern
that did not fit me well
I have tried to mend them
but my thread is too fine
and my needle too dullMy doubts interfere and I
fear for my body a lack
of clothes π
When in the distance a field
of lilies beckon me
“We never toil, nor spin our cloth
Yet in fine linen and
gold we are finely dressed”
“Do not be afraid, for a robe
of faith will be given that
fits you well” π
Wow what an interesting metaphor, lived this poem!!!
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