Saturday, March 17, 2007

Reaching for a hand to hold,

I shiver, feeling lost and cold.

Loneliness comes creeping in

And sadness settles on my skin.

I brush it off, like desert sand,

As if a storm reared up the land.

Waiting here in muted light

While motes of dust spin soft and bright,

Yet cling to cobwebs, in corners dark

As shadows grow inside my heart.

Still I sit with out-stretched hand

In bitter cold I wait, I stand

And know that soon the chill will lift,

A hand will come, and darkness shift

Away, as sunlight fills my life.

It lifts me gently, up, so high,

Where angels clasp me, hold me near.

And give such warmth, I disappear.

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