hither and thither

With not a care in the world
one is blown hither and thither.
At times to lie quiet in a corner,
and then again with the wind
high in the thick of things.

Shaken and moved
at different places.
Here and there
up and down.
hush.

And one is moved
or immobile gladly.
As either way
is always
is everything 
the touch
of the Beloveth.

  There is no greater joy than being
a slave of God.