Sling Song

The fall of a giant

is just a stone's throw away.

It's not the skill of the wind up

when you let go and let God,

the purpose of heaven,

rides on your arm

to the degree you ride

your knees.

A prayer is both weapon

and shield,

rising like incense

with a megaton yield.

Even a mocker

in his midnight of days,

will cross his heart

and hope to die

forgiven.

It's that simple

and more than the simple

apply.

Clear your throat

and your conscience,

sing the song of a boy with a sling.

Hurl your heart,

hard and high,

'til it lands

in His Hands.