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THOUGHTS

SPRINGS OF JOY
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The clicking sound of irrigation
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Awakens my imagination;
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The noise passersby alerting
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To be aware that water’s squirting.
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The trunks of trees are getting cleaner,
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While on the ground the grass gets greener.
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The grownups give each hose wide berth
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So all that fluid will hit the earth
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And not their hair and clothes and shoes.
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Getting wet gives adults blues.
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But children run into the spray;
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They see it as a place to play.
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They don’t object to getting drenched;
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Dignity’s not in them entrenched.
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How I love their squeals of laughter!
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The joy of watching them stays after
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They’ve all gone inside to dry.
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And then I start to wonder why
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I so resist the Spirit’s rain
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That seeks to freshen me again.
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My soul spends time just gathering dust
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Because I lack in child-like trust.
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“The thing that’s proper” blinds my eyes
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And can my “God thirst” paralyze.
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Lord, let my dignity go crashing
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And in Your springs of joy go splashing!
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With abandon, into Your river
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I throw myself, Great Blessing Giver.
Wayne West
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