* * *
The Call,
A Poem Of His Voice
We once heard His voice
With the ears of our hearts-
Like a morning whisper.
We left that communion
For a land
Foreign to our souls,
Yet His voice calls
From far away
To draw us from our wilderness
And wild woods.
Not knowing we are lost
And blind
We think darkness is normal
And our shackles belong.
But He
Is whispering
Through the racket of our lives;
While we run and flee
The sunny lands
That we seek.
Now we slop our way
Through dark swamps
Looking for lights,
And
Chasing the echoes
Of our own thoughts
As if they were
The mirage of His voice.
Still,
The lips that breathed life
Speaks your name,
He is saying, "Come."
(c) Adron Dozat
"Come unto me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.
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Thank you for visiting and reading my poem. I hope you enjoyed it and that it blessed your day.
(c) Adron 7/30/16
