that things released into the desert
can truly be counted lost.
I cannot hold onto them.
Look at my hands–
you can see the burns.
But I have a God.
He specializes in lost things,
in those released into deserts.
They are His people.
He has chosen them.
The land is promised.
I've never seen it,
though maybe I've caught a glimpse.
So I'll wait, and I'll follow;
Try not to run ahead or lag behind.
And count nothing, nothing lost
I have released in the desert.
I do not know His ways.
