The Gift of Darkness

A certain degree of,

agony and pain,

may prompt someone to rise up,

quite quickly;

like a broken spring,

in their favorite easy chair.


Stirred from slumber,

Just enough to call out,

God’s name,

And God, knowing them by name,

Lift’s them up, and says,

“Hey, I missed you,

So glad you’re here.

It matters not where,

You’ve been.”






Poems that feed the soul

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