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 --
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