I'm holding my soul in my hand,
a collection of trials and tribulations,
never finds a silence, harmony and contentment,
a lost spirit searches for a place, a homeland.
Lost...and searching...looking for pleasure,
off track and struggles to keep from drowning,
love, family, friends...nothing brings fulfillment,
I buy houses, cars, and unseen treasures,
thinking they will bring about motivation,
and fill the hole growing deeper in my core.
Work is more important than anything,
a locomotive in full power-driven motion.
Nothing, eases the bareness inside my being,
a lost spirit craves moral fiber,
this vacancy causes tenderness and agony,
grows to a point of foreboding and seething.
One morning a shaft peeps through my window,
kisses my shut eyes to unlock my hurting soul,
I see His Almighty radiance attach itself to my heart,
I reach out...take His hand...accept the rainbow He provides.
Read more articles by Barbara Ann Smith or search for articles on the same topic or others.
Promises... they can often mean so little coming from humans, as such a huge percentage are broken. But I never ceased to be comforted by the promises coming from Faithful and True. We can embrace His promises like no other, just knowing... just knowing. Beautiful, beautiful work!
