Life in a land flowing with milk and honey.
Filled to the brim,
I partake and then just take.
Greed so powerful, makes me quake.

I am foul.
Yet fresh and clean.
Nothing here always makes sense,
S'pose that's the beauty of innocence.

My God is more than alive
He is that which is life.
His breath escapes my lips,
And his life reverberates off my finger tips.

He is black. White.
Even grey.
He is my "conscious", my "awake".
Don't you see Him? Just look past the fake.

I see Him in you.
You.
Yes, you.
Somehow, he always makes us new.
(So much to Him is due!)
Yet those that see it are few.

Blinded by a land filled with milk and honey;
Maybe it's just too sunny.