Trespass

I trespass,
stepping over a line drawn in the sand.
Some prophets of this day
have spread their ideals
like wind through the grains
and the boundaries are less clear.

Do I seek
excuses,
stepping barefoot into sand
I should never feel?
Is the experience
worth the loss?

I trespass
into a world seemingly pleasant
and then,
I long for the simplicity
I once held tightly
in my heart.

Father in heaven,
be kind to me when I return,
a wanderer,
a prodigal.
Hold not my debts against me
and help my heart to forgive all that scars its flesh.



copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr