built up a bubble of sorts
control the swaying of the thin layer of soapy film
it never breaks
come close a few times
inside the bubble there are only two people
remember, of course, my wife and i are one
the other is Him
He's always around, in my head, in my dreams
left there, in my bubble, by God
I wanted to escape a time or three
always held back, every time
instincts sharpened by His voice
looking backwards from the bubble
the distance and fleeting is understood
avoiding disaster and dodging bullets
this faith life is hard.
