The Blues
Eying the blues pulls at my soul,
Those shades of waters and precious stones
Intriguing my eyes to want to penetrate the barrier.
The boundaries of desperation and hope.
Of light and dark.
Of man and nature
Of creation and destruction
The curse of believing we know what's coming,
Is that we're not prepared for what is coming.
There is more light in my darkness at this age,
Than I was expecting.
I used to say that as long as the darkness was warm
I would't mind the passage over,
And now I see there will also be some light....glory be.
No comments:
Post a Comment