At The Heart Of It All

Love was never just a time,
a waltz to dance within a rhyme,
but a chance for a new mind,
and lemonade from salty brine;
What is yours and what is mine,
we both behold at the same time.
Things above that matter most
seem elusive, like a ghost;
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
left a word, if we can hear it.
God is never far away,
but ready for the heart that prays.
Anything that you may say
may happen to you anyway,
so make sure you are secure,
the cross of Christ the only cure
for wasted days and darker nights,
if His will is our delight.
If all things are to be right,
we must come into the light.

by John Robert McCook

Other poems of JOHN ROBERT MCCOOK (1)

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