Did David know
When just a shepherd-child
Of his greatness?
Is one born
In the image of God aware
Of his bloodline?
Did he polish stones,
Herd sheep,
Play the harp, knowingly?
Was it easy?
Sitting alone in arid fields,
Waiting for his destiny
Because he knew,
Somewhere in his innards,
That destiny can’t be escaped?
That it can only be waited for.
And when he volunteered
To meet the Giant,
A child versus a mountain,
Did he know?
Or did the possibility hang in his mind
(even just a small one)
That it wasn’t necessarily settled--
That God may not come through,
And it wouldn’t change anything about God?
If David
Had a little doubt
When he picked up that first stone,
It gives me confidence because
It means that,
Knowing that I am not destined for greatness,
There is still the chance
That I can fight the Giant and win
And it wouldn’t change anything about God.
"What if there are really gleaming, castellated cities hung upside down over the desert sand? What limpid lakes and cool date palms have our caravans always passed untried? Until, one by one, by the blindest of leaps, we light on the road to these places, we must stumble in darkness and hunger." ~Annie Dillard
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