On quicksands, we must travel at some speed
Pausing, to the sucking sands we cede.
No rumination nor excuse will save
Nor will our weeping stop the steady waves
For of our needs, stark nature takes no heed.
If on our journey should we pause to read
Or peer on phone to see where paths should lead?
No, we must walk as swiftly as is brave.
And this alone may give us what we need
We’d best not stop despite our feet may bleed
As when a bull is charging we need speed
No special clothing nor appearance suave
Will distinguish us from harlots or from knaves.
We’re at risk as in a storm a reed
Will break and God does not deceive.