The Gift

What is this gift which searches the human soul
And cries to be heard
Is it pain that seeks relief or is it
The desire to reach out to the higher life
And thereby understand who is behind the clouds
For someone must be listening to the words which
Flow in joy, love sadness and pain
For they often explode with such force
That speech comes without sound and only
A gasp echoes across the universe
We know however that the mystery behind the
Clouds does listen, for like bolts of lightening
Coming down from above, the Gift echoes back to
Human souls and says, I hear and understand you
For it is I who sent the Gift of Love
That you might know Me and remember the
Light instead of the Darkness which shadows
Human life, for the Gift rises more righteously
Than the SWORD . . . . .

by Joan E. Prussia

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