Somewhere between the truth and the lie is the place we call life. We dabble in the reality of things and struggle through the strife. Much time is spent in wishing for things which never will be so. And wishing is the springboard for adventures we will seldom know. A place for me, where I fit in; with pleasant valley Sundays. A gentle breeze, a misty morning, the warmth of far away sun rays.
Life is breathing while your heart is beating and the mysteries around us are calling. The joys of victories are yours when balanced by the woes of loser’s bawling. In the times when sorrows hold their sway we seek the strength of others. To pull us back to the center place where we can balance our druthers. I’ll not stay long upon this thought for joy overwhelms my soul. As I contemplate the promises of God who has made heaven my goal.
There I’ll spend in His presence no time. As I now understand the passing of seconds for the aging. The thoughts and desires of the life that is past are filled with mindless raging. So for this present I’ll seek to think on that which I cannot see. When I’ll walk in harmony with my hand in His and His hand upon me. And it seems unlikely I’ll write such words that give justice to His glory. For in the place, that time, that love, I will know that Story. Words will fail and thoughts will sail beyond the realm of mere mortals. For He will shine and cast His sublime light upon heaven’s portals.