O' Father I Thank You

O' Father I thank you!
I thank you!
For I see someone so real
Coming down from the sand up the hill
Way out of the East land sunset...

O' Father I thank you!
I thank you!
For your messenger, the x-pottery seller
Is sitting up high on her Camel's back
With the word inside her poetry sac.

I know she'll be here sooner than time
To infect us with the message
That You sent for our redemption
O' Father, I thank you!
For I can see her coming from way up high...

And I can see everything else
Like Camel dung laying on the road to curse them.
But the vision is as huge as a Camel fair!
...Plus, with You directing traffic, I know the trip will be smooth
She'll just ignore the gathering crew.

O' Father, I can see her holding on
To the center of it all!
Ah! I trust You completely....
For through poetry, you shall restore!!

"[I] know this first of all, that no prophecy of scripture
is a matter of one's own interpretation, for no prophecy
was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved
by the Holy Spirit spoke from God."
2 Peter 1:20-21

Poem: Fania Simon
Picture info: An Afar nomadic woman traveling to the next water site and pasture land with all her belongings tied to her camel. Photo © Lorna Chiu