Unto Thee
One last day to suffer,
as silence endures
One new day engendered,
to motion toward
A musical seamstress,
to stitch me back whole
A lyrical consort,
inscribed to behold
Each word as my seed,
laying fertile the plain
Each phrase lost and orphaned,
my spirit reclaims
That breath once bespoken,
new hope to set free
That voice reawakened
—whose soul unto thee
(The Book Of Prayers: April, 2020)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2020
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