My Heart is parched and my Soul runs low of strength,
rumblings from within in hunger for Love.
I must ration myself as I journey alone,
keeping reserves of what I have to offer.
I carry seeds of love and devotion close to me,
so they are not grown in haste.
I store in carefulness of what is tucked away,
so not as to lose for what may be ahead.
Does that me beggarly? A poor soul to pity? Soured by bitter drink?
No, for I am wiser in knowing of my travels,
To wait for the feast, of The Harvest of Love, when it is time.
Copyright © Jose Gonzalez 2015
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
My Heart is parched and my Soul runs low of strength,
rumblings from within in hunger for Love.
I must ration myself as I journey alone,
keeping reserves of what I have to offer.
I carry seeds of love and devotion close to me,
so they are not grown in haste.
I store in carefulness of what is tucked away,
so not as to lose for what may be ahead.
Does that me beggarly? A poor soul to pity? Soured by bitter drink?
No, for I am wiser in knowing of my travels,
To wait for the feast, of The Harvest of Love, when it is time.
Copyright © Jose Gonzalez 2015
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