Carol Richard Weyler Poet Rhyme

The Author

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       "My immortal children,
         won't listen to my heart.
        Beating still, to free them,
         but they stay torn apart.
        Tears unshed; by a God,
         too far away to care.
        Pharisee's law,with a facade,
         creeds they cannot bear.

        Distant son, wayward daughter,
         all the same, to Me.
        Thirsting for the Living Water,
         hungry to be free.
        Tired of dying; just to live,
         to see their Maker smile.
        All the reasons that they give,
         for suffering, all the while.

        Can Holy Hands ever reach,
         hands that I designed?
        You can pray; but can you teach
         they will always be Mine?
        Yes; I'm here and closer than
         the shadows on your wall.
        Let the wise ones understand,
         I will not let you fall.

        I can see the glory,
         from the beginning to the end.
        But the only one who can write the story,
         is the one who holds the pen.

              Love,GOD..."

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