Poetry

---

Her heart ponders many things,
when questions roam forbidden realm.
They occupy Holy space,
and grieve the One Who longs to help.

Understanding lacks the strength,
to grasp its place in lasting Peace.
Tortured by its bitter gall,
she turns away Love’s healing fleece.

She hears no cries, nor the moans,
of Spirit sweet and tender.
Pained amidst, He speaks her name,
to the One Who seeks to help her.

‘Grieve not The Spirit dear child of mine,
with questions and your wanders!
Release to me their bitter gall,
upon My Word do ponder.

Keep My Truths within your heart,
protect them with My Sword.
Strike the blade against your foe!
Come unto Me … your Lord.’





Pat Guy
©2006
[email protected]

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE