Upon the hot earth.

In all the world,

there was only one man

like Jonah,

who knew Your voice so well,

he came to ignore it,

and even in the belly of that

great big fish—

three days, rotting and stinking

in the acidic waters,

crying out to the Lord

who wanted only to giveth,

while he longed only to take away—

he emerged at the feet of a people

he declared as rotten as the stink

in that stomach, and only had a heart

for the plant that gave him shade.

Of all the people, I link hearts with the prophets,

how great Thou art, and how great the journey,

the message.

How great the need and great the desire.

But like Jonah, how I'm spit out upon the hot

earth, eyes opened to the boiling sun,

wondering about the who behind the why,

and is it worth it,

and where's a leaf when you need one?