This week’s poem isn’t a spiritual one, but a fun poem inspired by a pun I heard about taking things for granite, instead of for granted.
Taking you for Granite
I think you’re really gneiss,
You’re a pretty coal person,
I’ll always sand(stone) by you,
You shale always be my friend.
You are marbleous,
I’ll always lava you,
You are my rock,
And I won’t take you for granite,
It’s sedimentary, my dear Watson:
You set my heart on (sa)phire,
Of quartz, I like you a lot,
And I think I always shale.
I chalk it up to fate
That life pressed us together,
Though it didn’t take much heat or pressure
For my heart to metamorphosize into loving you.
You’re really quite o-clay,
I can’t express how cool you ore.
I hope you’re not ruby awakened
When I say that ge(ode), you’re so fine.
Most people who know me know I really don’t like to be dehydrated, and so I carry a water bottle around all the time. When I realized the spiritual parallels, I decided to write this poem.
I notice quickly when I get dehydrated.
My mouth gets dry, I feel a headache grow,
My mind pushes me to go and drink,
And my body yearns to just be filled.
Because of this, I carry a water bottle
Just about everywhere I go.
I drink from it often, I refill it a lot,
Staying hydrated is important to me.
I notice, too, when I get spiritually dehydrated.
I feel sad, I lose perspective,
My life feels empty, blank, and unfulfilling,
And my spirit yearns to just be filled.
And yet, I don’t carry a spiritual water bottle,
A prayer or a scripture in my heart.
But Christ is more important than dead water,
And He will fill my cup to overflowing.