Thankful for the prayers, I do not hear
Silent whispers of truth in the wind
Sins upon my brow lay heavy
My mind weighed down and stressed like the levies
Gentle breeze through tunnels
funnel troubles down the drain
Pain, a figment of my imagination
Pigments in the pictures' painting
Filament the keeps my light blazing
A candle in the dark, for those who are lost
it's a sign of home.
Family provides the best pillows
fluffed with love and stuffed with high hopes.
We come short of saints and popes
but come we must
to be embraced by trust and faith.
Two arms never felt so safe.
But they let go sometimes
to let the risk we take
ours to contemplate.
We see farther upon higher ground
by those who climbed out of death valleys
to mountain tops and cemented the foundation.
Now we star gaze
with nothing in our way