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john-davisPoems
Something At the edge of thought. More delicate than a dandelion seed And more powerful than The wind that blows it. Somehow I manage to run While wanting To stay And act Upon the restless order. Someone Beckoning. Ceaselessly, Continuously, Lovingly, Until at that moment Preceded by millions Without Substance, I listen and hear.
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
God's Beckon
Something At the edge of thought. More delicate than a dandelion seed And more powerful than The wind that blows it. Somehow I manage to run While wanting To stay And act Upon the restless order. Someone Beckoning. Ceaselessly, Continuously, Lovingly, Until at that moment Preceded by millions Without Substance, I listen and hear.
john-davis
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john-davis
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
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