Clutching my books, I dodge the dancing shadows cast by the tall maples and oaks common on campus. I strain to hear under the conversations for the slightest hint of his heavy footfall. My eyes dart between the groups of people, under the benches, and over my shoulders. I am constantly gripped by fear, paranoia, anxiety. Heaviest on my soul is the envy I feel toward those idle and careless moments the others take for granted.
If only I could hide from the always judging eyes of the Father. Then, maybe I too could enjoy a few minutes of idleness.
*** Daily Writing Practice ***
I hope the Father is daddy and not the higher being who, I choose to believe, does not judge His children.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry to disappoint, but I am sure it is the Father.... at least that is who I was thinking of when I wrote it.
ReplyDeleteP.S. I do not believe in a judgmental deity either.