Song of the Rye

Song of the Rye
 
 A little poem to meditate on.
 

  I was made to be eaten,

And not to be drank.

  To be thrashed in a barn,

Not soaked in a tank.

One Book or Many Books

 One Book or Many Books?

“I wouldn’t base my beliefs on one book,” she said. Her words stung. The sting went deep so deep I have not forgotten it.