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Created on: September 30, 2009
As I look - beyond the rags of a tattered soul,
tired and weary from forty years
of wandering within the hidden desert
of your parched dear soul,
where the lovely "Lilly of the Valley blooms,"
nourished, by the secret dew of angels - and, of God
resting in your eternal depths of wealth
the treasure I see that is you!
You and I dear one -
are artists and poets when allowed,
passionately feeling the sacredness of the written word,
and the salt of tears recieved
as you accept a broken man of contemplative dust
as your secret friend, we two
share and sense the divinity of the sacred curvings
of each petal, each bloom, each vine or each heart we touch...
desiring more from the depths who are called we,
and yet - you have no home...
but the streets and parks
of an unknown town, but yet
your delightful song of love is in my heart
and as I have come to know you, dear one
I ask you -
please sweet one,
take my hand in the spirit of love and friendship,
where I cry out
Yes! I say -
my little voice from heaven,
I love you!
and I ask as well...
everytime you search out your back-pack
I pray you will always come to know dear love,
you are finally free, and
in my heart, I say
You are finally home!
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