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Everyone wants
to be heard
but their own voices
they drown
and forget-

to themselves
strangers
they have become-
in a barren desert
they are lost
and tossed
totally desolate

with their life-story
unread and unrecorded
I've been too used
to waiting
it has defined
my life
yet it still remains
in my thinking-
it is a virtue
most worthwhile

for immediate
or quick satisfaction
is not my pick-
it only does belong
to the spoilt child

there's the sweet
looking forward
to a brighter dawn
with the promise
grace will adorn:

I'll hold on
to the waiting
even if
I've to walk
the longest mile
doors to understanding swung wide
freedoms words unfold
new depth of mystery

a poet, priest, Blacksmith
forging in the furnace
gates to eternity.
~
Enter the lair

Of a cloudless grenadine

Misty branches of sun

On the outer marker

And in their place

A strawberry moon

~
with lips sewn
confidence grows

a deeper listening
hears the contemplative

moving beyond illusion
of self and surroundings.
That path you're on
It will eventually lead you to something far greater
Than you can ever imagine

To a beauty that you've never seen before
To a feeling you've never felt before

To a love far better than any love you've ever had

On that path
You can find Jesus
some would have you 'fool'
but thats ok its par for the course

and they are only fooling themselves
poor souls.
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