Like a motherless child of forgotten birthConstantly seeking
Endlessly speaking
Striving, in others, to find my worth.
A nameless longing probes the soul
A fierce desire to be made wholeA magnet pull
To be made full
The mark it seems of this life's goal.
Always, always, the beckoning hand -
"Come deeper into My Promised Land.
Walking free
And finding in Me
All the fullness that I have planned."
6 comments:
Wow.
Now we talking. :-)
Keep writing.
Very lovely Allie...
Oh, this speaks to me...you write so beautifully...never stop.
xx
Incredible writing - very thought provoking.
@ Mel, Olivia and Lynette - There's remarkable story that goes with this poem.
@ Kitty - Thanks Kitty. And its good to see you blogging again. I love your writing and wait patiently for you to re-emerge :-)
You write good poetry. Allie,u know there are ' poets blessed and poets cursed'. YOU are a talented blessed poetess.your theme is well treated, your meter as well as your rhyme have a meaning. And, which is more, your form completes the content. Carry on.
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