Sunday, September 30, 2018


I am poet without a poem
Song without any voice.
Breath breathing out and in
In stillness I rejoice.

I am feet without a path,
Prayer whose hands can’t clasp.
Whispering I cannot shout
That which I scarcely grasp.

I am tears in eyes too dry,
Laughter without a sound.
Yet, though I scarcely walk,
I go the whole world round.

I am the might-have-been.
I am the yet-to-be;
Waiting to be complete,
Tuned to Christ’s harmony

No comments: