When nothing in the world
I turn to for distraction,
not a book, movie, scene or symphony
has an appeal like the silence of God,
how can I not be still
while pushing the plow,
and look to see or feel Him
with my heart.
Then a bursting of something within
that I don’t have a name for
but know Who it Is,
the One I’ve always known.
The Lover of All!
Waiting for me.
Always waiting.
Silent.
But that doesn’t mean
I don’t know what He has to say.
I just want to listen all day,
care not for visions,
and let the world think me a fool.