Adopted to a kind of outer space,
We soon forget the land that is our home
To be a member of the human race.
We wear a mask and cover up the face
That God creates for each one of his own –
Adopted to a kind of outer space.
How quickly we take on the pressing pace
And work to please the world of flesh and bone
To be a member of the human race.
We push away the gifts and gentle grace
For what is seen and heard and touched and known
Adopted to a kind of outer space.
We try to carve ourselves a special place,
And build a life more solid than a stone
To be a member of the human race.
Yet even though we miss the warm embrace,
The God-within proclaims we’re not alone.
Adopted to a kind of outer space,
To be a member of the human race.
A villanelle
for NaPoWriMo day 4.
Also shared at
Dverse | OpenLinkNight #175
