It's an old, solid, well built house
But the reaching fingers of the
Curl around thru the door frame,
Under the window pane and in the
Fire place flue
I pray that the wooing wind
Of your life giving Holy Spirit
Beyond her methodically
Soon, Jesus, soon.
You came on with the strength of a cloud
Thinking you spoke with cymbalic loudness
When what came out was fluffy white nothingness
It sounded definitive and positive to you
But other ears didn't hear it that way
Maybe it would be best to leave with silence
That way no one could tell for sure how loud it was.
You splashed a stone
Across the mirror surface
Of my life
For a moment
It became vividly alive
And still I sense
Unseen ripple overlapping ripple
Of the impression you've
Made upon my mind
Indelible, even though you've gone.
I flew by your underground windowless room today
Hoping to get a glimpse of you again
But the curtains were drawn
And the shutters closed
Over the solid wall beneath,
Yet I was deluded into thinking
I might have seen you
Had the shutters and curtains not been there.
(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.
Saved by His grace in 1974, from 9 years of professing atheism into His loving arms. RN for 23 years, missionary with YWAM then statistical analyst for Every Home for Christ over 9 years. Living with my husband in the middle of a mountain meadow. GRIN! Wanting to spread the good news