Wednesday, April 4, 2012

That Place I Long For

Walking through a maze
Of obstacles and pain
I am transformed
As my hand brushes the grains
Of the tall grass in the glory
Of the sunshine
Of late summer
Over the plains
In the Elysian Fields
My time of being now muted
By the merciful embrace
Of the after place
Where we go
To see the beauty
The One has made