Well, here I am oh GOD of heaven and earth -
creative love yourself, I’m walking through
this land of yours, where I have had my birth -
and feel like you want me to care f’rit too.
You are my walking partner on this trip,
in fact you are the senior partner here.
I want to be respectful not to slip
into a kind of cheeky “Father dear… !”
where you are to me just a genie slave.
I think that is a rubbish way to be.
Yet I know I could still do that, behave
in ways that seek my comfort, luxury.
As you said through the prophets to those kings,
[you're people who were meant to bless the world.
Where your king leads in serving folk, and sings
the praise of all that’s good, and will keep curled
within your hand (holds tight, yet also basks
as much as he is able, but trusts more).]
in trouble they should call on you and ask
sure help from you. Though that was then, before,
I'd like to ask your help with my bad tooth.
It's paining more & I might have to stop.
I know that's not the end, and that in truth
I could go, and return, from dentist’s shop.
And I have seen you bring about much good
from things that seem all bad and hateful stuff,
so I'm not saying all the things you should
do, but this tooth is sore, and I’m not tough.
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