Thursday, October 23, 2008

A Plea...

Lost in this noise
As I pull myself together,
My mind drifts to the question...

"When will You come to the place you promised?"

As I trek this crying world
Glimpses of Your Beautiful Self
Shine out of the Static

Majestic trees, Crashing Waves,
Dry Earth

Like me, cry out to be restored.

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