When I retire for the night,
fresh with timid words
and exhausted from the strain of the day,
let me slog slowly
into the darkness
weaving stars
and sunshine
into my dreaming.
I jostle all day long
like a wagon full of heavy stones
and when I finally arrive at my place of rest
I am eternally embossed with prayers of gratitude.
My face is pocked with the weariness of the world.
My heart is the filter for all that must be done.
Rock me slowly in the twilight
and the eternal sounds of God's voice
will sing to us all.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
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