On the Morning of the Borning "Though I must die poor mad and apostate May it be with an unswollen prostate gland And with a respectable remainder of my hair" The hesitant petition of something like a prayer In an awkward position as I was there At the awkward borning of my mortality There as I was between effect and cause Here as I am at a loss when and where They cross and with so many ways not to be But to be anyway if hesitatingly Somehow to know now will always be all right Now for me someway with so many ways to be Though I must live poor mad and apostate For my submission something like an answered prayer In an awkward position as I am there Prostatically fine if financially prostrate And with a respectable remainder of my hair In my awkwardness there where I find my grace Without any and with so many ways not to be But to be anyway if hesitatingly As grateful for what does as for what does not remain Rising up again after falling on my face And falling and rising again and again Learning to turn and earn beyond the burning Beyond which is nothing left to explain In the wind like a kite on the evening of good night Somehow to know now will always be all right At the awkward borning unhesitatingly When without any warning then someway comes good morning On the morning of the borning of my immortality +Steven Curtis Lance Copyright MMXI