soul is guarded as I traverse this plain of inequity,
I am trapped with the shoes worn on my feet beneath me.
shoes run rampant or suddenly slow, touching toe to heel.
the canvas and leather master me? Can
this be real?
shirt I wear betrays the body and every thought,
sends me places, forgetting which of us was bought.
foolish this sounds to let what we make control us,
see the idols carved by hand that are served before Jesus?
into faces that cannot smile or ears that hear,
forsake ourselves and worship this technological gear.
control our lives, drinking from our devotion,
our interests, and laying claim to every emotion.
are broken and separated from what is important,
our pride, dissolving what is just, right, gallant.
cause is by our cry for a need of urgency,
from news, to gossip, to a valid emergency.
the results are the same as far as Christ is concerned,
false images that we worship will with our souls be burned.
our hearts back to Jesus, the Only Begotten Son,
will save our souls, and ensure that without us, our shoes won’t run.
Our Shoes Won’t Run by Ronhales Isaiah 44:19-20