Seasons
I have no books
Nor have I teachers
But him who is enough
Where life’s inside the sap that flows
All else besides can adds nothing more!
I find a longing
For some one same
But this chalice who can bear
Where like and similar are not same
There comes a parting of the ways, in disbelief!
I lose a longing
To have and hold
Leaves I cast as I grow old
And having nothing losing all
Life’s hope springs when there is everything
Born the longing
For one who loves
But who can love the thief
And live in him who is enough
Who knows he only takes to give is everything!
Those who hold
Or those who empty
Who can tell the difference
They that live in him who is enough
Through emptied jars of clay lose everything!
And these
are born
not self made
Copyright © Judith Deverell | Year Posted 2011
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