Blessed. Full. Delivered.

I’m waiting for nothing.

Nothing waits for no one.

Yet God waits for everyone.

Time waits for no man.

No wonder since we often kill it.

But even if we killed God, He still waits for us.

What is it that makes each one of us special?

I think it’s because there is only ever one of me.

I being I is precious, in my being myself.

I am I.

But I exist because of others.

Parents. Friends.

Relationships of every colour and stripe.

Good and bad. Sour and sweet.

Some who feed my needs and wants. And I feed others in return.

The blessings, they circle, twirl, mix it up, flash through time and space.

Bountiful. Beautiful. Wonderful.

I have no need for more.

I am I.