"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
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Volume 4 Issue 2
Page 23
Page 23
All those years I knew before,
The years I looked for You, O Lord,
They fell away to nothing when I knew You;
You sent her on a paper plate,
Unadorned, my matron saint,
She took me by the hand and led me to You;
The seventh deadly sin of Pride,
She looks beyond, to me, inside;
At dawn, the child was not a stranger to You;
And, yes, I left the child behind,
But always kept the place in mind,
And it was she that helped me bring him to You;
I glimpsed the end, or thought I did,
With only me to make the bid,
With only me to tell You that I'd seen You;
But now she tucks me in at night,
She shows me where to find the light,
And everything she does is to reveal You
The years I looked for You, O Lord,
They fell away to nothing when I knew You;
You sent her on a paper plate,
Unadorned, my matron saint,
She took me by the hand and led me to You;
The seventh deadly sin of Pride,
She looks beyond, to me, inside;
At dawn, the child was not a stranger to You;
And, yes, I left the child behind,
But always kept the place in mind,
And it was she that helped me bring him to You;
I glimpsed the end, or thought I did,
With only me to make the bid,
With only me to tell You that I'd seen You;
But now she tucks me in at night,
She shows me where to find the light,
And everything she does is to reveal You
| La Femme De Ma Vie By Dade Cariaga |