Slipping softly down my face,
Flow evidence of healing grace,
That washes darkness from my heart
And shadows that You bid depart.
How can I weep for troubles past
When loving arms still hold me fast?
Oh Love that will not let me go,
Enfold me in the Spirit’s flow,
And cleansed, I feel my heart break free
To hear Your voice,
“Come dance with Me.”
Poetry touches the heart. While an artist uses brushes, chalk, pastels, oils and other mediums to express themselves, the poet is armed with a pen or pencil to paint with words.
A beautiful sunrise or sunset brings me to tears and watching clouds passing by causes me to look up with wonder of the kingdom above our earth. Somewhere up there is heaven, and a Savior, that when our time comes, waits with open arms to enfold and welcome us. It inspires awe, and looking back through my files, a lot of poetry!