Dry Ground
At times, my witness to this young mother,
Was sorely lacking,
So many times I pondered, if in my heart,
I might be slacking.
My words fell, or so it seemed, beyond her
Range of hearing,
And God, at times, allowed my heart to near
A point of searing;
For her, why had God chosen, my heart
To so encumber?
This burden tendered me had power, from morning
Light, to slumber.
Was it because my immediately thought was
Turning her away,
That God chose to place her in my heart
That meeting day;
Because she worked for me I felt bound in just
What I could say,
For fear that something might be taken in
An inappropriate way;
So thoughts concerning her, became burned,
Beyond my forgetting,
From the time she left our lives just like
A sun at setting;
My objective concerning her has not changed
Since early days,
I wanted/want my life to be a witness to her
In some small ways;
I prayed/pray Dear Lord, use me no matter
What the cost,
Just keep Shirlene in a place in life wherein
She won’t die lost.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2015
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