Foxes have holes and the birds have nests.
But the son of man has nowhere to lay his head.
In this world we are only guests.
Wearily on our path we tread.

I crashed my head on the cottage beam.
So hard I was flung to the floor.
I walked as in a dream.
Shocked to the core .

The bang on the head did some good.
I felt really positive in everything next morning.
Not exactly martyrdom or sainthood.
But an end of senseless mourning.

Perhaps a bit of shock
Unpicks the lock.

…….,

Be comfortable
But the perhaps not too much
You have to move on

……

See Luke 9: 51-62