Not too much, the Lord says. Not too much. Moderation. Pace. Your time will come when I say so. He keeps me this way. Tempered. Living life. Developing my faith. Careful not to give it all to me, because he knows what l’ll do with it. I’d spoil it. On women. On riotous living. You know, a real prodigal son wasting his inheritance. And so I keep my heart open and put the words down. What he teaches me goes deep into my soul and comes out through my fingertips. I walk the streets an unknown. In perfect seclusion. A poet of our Lord, writing the words he gives to me to share. Never given an ego to trip over. Never trying to swallow too much success. Life with him is moderation. Balance. So I take the ills with every step forward. I owe everything I am to him, which is not too much, and never too little.