It's been a long time
Since I set aside time
For me and my God
buss a lime-
It's a spiritual crime!
I gave him neither paper or pen
Not five, not ten (I don’t mean a dime)
Just a little bit of time
For me and me God buss a lime.
It is a spiritual crime!
When I go into the word
Or down on my knees,
My God hears my pleas,
And He sends the keys.
But it's been a long time
Since I set aside time
For me and my God
buss a lime-
It's a spiritual crime!
After all he has done
I turn my back and run.
I refused to give five or ten,
when just back then
Hour on my knees I'd spend;
Because of my need and them,
My lord was my best best friend.
It has been a long time
Since I set aside time
For me and my God
To buss a lime-
It is a spiritual crime.
When I go down on my knees,
My God would hear my pleas
And He would send the keys.
through praises he opened doors,
There I find blessing fo’sure.
But the stupidy in me,
Turned my back and flee.
Just like the prodigal son,
I thought the blessings would never done,
So I ran out into the world
And shared my blessing with,
Sinner the boys and girls...
Now like the prodigal son,
I am glad I could return.
It's been a long time
Since I set aside time
For me and my God
buss a lime-
It's a spiritual crime!
Old slew-foot had me jacked
And like a disappearing act-
Yes a disappearing act!
Like a fool I'd ran.
I ran from the spring.
I ran from my God and king,
Which was a dumb, dumb thing.
It's been a long time
Since I set aside time
For me and my God
buss a lime-
It's a spiritual crime!
But hallelujah; Yes hallelujah!
Like the prodigal son,
I 'm glad I could return
Because his hand is open,
with love He says, come my son,
In my house, you are welcome!
Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis
don't get complacent bro! I find that a problem as well, spiritual complacency. What a coincidence, I just read the parable of the prodigal son last night. Always remember that God is always ready to accept us, if we repent before Him. Luke 15: 21-23: '21 And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. 22 But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: 23 And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so many allusions, metaphors and myths - all vehemently juxtaposed by a yoke of devotional passion... This faith in God in modern times is really rare..Reminiscent of Hopkins' poetry...