The Truth

I need to feel the arc of Love

caressing me from God above

that holds the Truth in its embrace

that brings a smile to my somber face.

Sometimes I think I'm bound to be

a leaf that dangles from a tree

holding on to the Source of faith,

yet letting go to the wind's embrace.

I drift to the heavens where I can fly.

Or fall to the earth where I crinkle and die.

Perhaps as earth I'll nurture you

as you plant your flowers in my loving hue.

I'd like to be water, so I can flow

to dreams beyond this; beyond 'I don't know'.

So wet I seem to slosh and sleet

like little toads beneath your feet.

All thoughts of Truth are not from me.

They come from God where I am free

to make up stories like this you see.

So 'bye for now 'cause this can't be

the Truth.

Janet E. Spiller

Writing Class

March 24^th, 2017