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THE CRITIQUE CIRCLE

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TITLE: The Answer
By Pat Guy
05/10/05
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I do not know the mechanics of poetry -- it's touchy feely all the way -- but I liked this one and would like some input to improve it before I post it. Thanks, Pat
The Answer

Desert dry, parched heart,
Footprints covered by wind,
Empty swirls, steps to wander,
Time retraced again.

Compass broken, vision dimmed,
Garments tattered by years,
Beneath gives way, swallowed questions,
The well of no more tears.

Sinking quickly, faster than breath,
Cries muffled by pain,
“Why?” holds tight, molds the space,
Immoveable doubts remain.

Understanding, alludes the moment,
Alludes the desperate touch,
“Were You there?” “Are You now?”
Hope lingers as dust.

Determined Love, breaks the crust.
Focused in It’s action,
Plunging deep, accurate speed,
Instant by a fraction.

Grip of Hope, holds on tight,
Cries of anguish plea,
“Father if it be Thy will,”
“This cup may pass from me?”

Gasping for a cleansing breath,
Trembling body bare,
He covers me, His Robe of White
Warm and fragrance fair.

Swaddled embrace, murmurs soft,
Wearily His face I seek,
Eyes of Love, Eyes concerned,
His tears upon my cheek.


“Oh wash me in Your Tears of Anguish!”
“Oh cloak me with Your Scourging!”
“Fill me with Your Suffered Soul!”
“This root, I beg Your purging!”

My child, My heart, My precious one,
If all I have ever done,
Was bring you to My Presence,
Through the Blood of My only Son.

Rest now My weary child,
I’m here, never to leave,
All will soon be over,
Forever is Ours to be!



Pat Guy
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