I am not holier than thou

I am not holier than thou ...

I AM

which I am not

Only He is that IS

I am just a crock-pot

I simmer, slowly

And am not done

until time passes

Long passed hunger as fun

He IS 

And has been

He is unmoved

Niether to nor fro

Always, Forever

I am however

I am always slow

Slow to see

Slow to believe

Slow to consider

If His home is

where I am meant to go

When I get a passage

Do I pass it on?

Or do I think of ideas

Like milkened honey and lepracauns?

No, I sit and think to only me

What it is that I am suppose to conceive

I give me the power you know

It's logic

It's me whom shall grow

It's my time

To let flow

It's my rhyme and songs

I sing and row

Row, Row, 

Rowing down the stream

I row so much

I forget what rowing means

I sing tunes

And the tune is nothing less

Than what it all means

I digress .....

Have I forgotten the note?

The builder of those?

Or have I jumped to the excitement

And leave it all unwrote

So the tunes mean more

Than the root of hope

Which is the root of all songs

That we all like to note

We sing to daze

We sing to dazzle

We sing to praise

We sing to praisal

But why do we sing to all that jazz?

Where did it all come from?

Do we bother to ask?