Our Souls
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I gazed into the early morning, blue sky.
Some of the sky was yellow.
Some of it was the softest blue.
One small cloud scuttled along.
Everything below was shades of gray,
Filled with discontent, chaos, fear, and pain.
But the sky remained at peace,
Filled with sweet blue gentleness.
Why can’t our souls be like the blue sky?
Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2023
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