Blind Faith

I think my words are far more worthy than I am, the writer – often feeling, grateful – but apart! For the mind and heart, can seem, at times, mere spectators to the being. Inspiration pouring in, as if a blessed shower or cloudburst, from far off or high above, somewhere outside conscious push-and-shove. Feeling honored to be allowed a share; pleased to know something far greater than I is taking dutiful care – for one's soul can be its own worst adversary; faith, the vision of blind, dispelling all notion to the contrary --