BJH (05/29/65 / Missouri)

Submission…

A door stands at the center of my soul
Sealed and caulked… so tightly painted closed
Protecting me from all the world without
Limiting my sphere from unseen foes

I only see the things I choose to see
All other scenes which pass before my eyes
As phantoms simply do not register
And glancing o’er my conscience just slide by

Infrequently, I wonder at the sound
Which seems to take attention from my pact
But always scatters as dust on the wind
Ignored, superfluous, and do not act

And time rolls on in everlasting calm
A languor born out of my own design
Absent from connection with true life
Adrift within the confines of my mind

“If only s…” and “What if s…” reverberate
Echoing in silence, like a plea
And sounds I did not hear flow as a wave
Faintly calling “Child, please come to me”

So softly, and yet still, persistently
He comes each day to give another chance
And gently taps a musical design
Into the grain of ennui’s happenstance

Today will be a new experience
This time, the time I join the world anew
Relinquishing control I never owned
With Jesus love, I know I’ll make it through
That open door…

copyright 2009

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