Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The Winter Wind Stings

A soft voice

Carried by the North wind…

He beckoned me unto Him.


"Sweetheart," He called me.

"Where have you wandered?"

"Far away, I guess."

"Well," He said, "I want you back."


His hand rested on my head,

Gently lifting it

'Till my eyes met His.


"Be clean again."


Tonight, I'm done crying wolf.

Peel back this skin

To find the heart of a child

Who aches to love You.


-Originally written April 15, 2007

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