A vortex of shameful sorrows,
the whispering secrets of the man unmade.
He told us his stories of the past, present,
all the same.
Never forgetting a mark on his journey, leaving on his own turf of mastery, Flowing through time..like it had to be.
The clocks run wild, throughout time is what is found.
The things we see, pass each day….
…and yet we don’t see them.
If a piece of God is all we’ve been searching for….
I spin and spin and understand now….
why the world goes round and round.
Our stories can tell us as we tell them just the same,
& you will see that all the answers are that of none.
Walking the line…
Barefoot and blind.
And You smile with joy, that same sparkle I’ve seen before.
And the silence…
Isn’t so scary anymore.
With the sound of a beauty I’ll never forget.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 5:17 AM UTC
A vortex of shameful sorrows,
the whispering secrets of the man unmade.
He told us his stories of the past, present,
all the same.
Never forgetting a mark on his journey, leaving on his own turf of mastery, Flowing through time..like it had to be.
The clocks run wild, throughout time is what is found.
The things we see, pass each day….
…and yet we don’t see them.
If a piece of God is all we’ve been searching for….
I spin and spin and understand now….
why the world goes round and round.
Our stories can tell us as we tell them just the same,
& you will see that all the answers are that of none.
Walking the line…
Barefoot and blind.
And You smile with joy, that same sparkle I’ve seen before.
And the silence…
Isn’t so scary anymore.
With the sound of a beauty I’ll never forget.
