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Tossing, turning soul within the dark womb
Comfortable prisoner conceived in sin
Yet the lover of his soul – travailing, suffering
Lays down her life for his deliverance
Out of the darkness and into the light
And as the apostle rested his head
Upon the prophetic bosom of the Lord
The delicate child grasps her nurturing breast
With the feast of sincere milk he thrives
Cradled in the hearth of satisfaction
Tenderly bowing down over this child
Over this helpless one – dependent on mercy
And contented by the security of unconditional love
She is endued with the desire to fulfill his every need
And softly bound by the patience of commitment
Baby steps on the pathway – faltering, stumbling
The fallen child looking hopefully upward
Is gently lifted by the righteous hand that binds his wounds
And drying tears from his saddened eyes, she comforts
Setting his feet on the firmer ground
From his confident walking emerges the run
Down a wayward road traveled only for self
Through the barrenness of a doubting world
Void of all peace and tranquil songs
Yet her interceding prayers usher the care of angels
In his running, he denies – with fruitless wanderings
But echoes of her voice follow relentless in his mind
Whispers of remembrance – of truth instilled since birth
His hungry soul with deep regret groans against the wind
Longing for rebirth
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