Saturday, April 1, 2017

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 24th, 2017

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