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.