It spent seven days walking with God: three forward; a single in circles; three carried back from whence it came.
(Not once did it understand.)
It dreamt of purpose but was marked for return to sender.
A messenger (lost in the mail) questioned deliverance.
The hour grows late and the parchment wilts brittle.
(Time is running out.)*
It's been a while.
*You didn't forget -- did you?