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Winter cannot recall the fullness of summer, Nor summer the trees grown stark and cold, So seasons pass in the footsteps of each other, Never growing younger or ever turning old.
Seasons and Tides, Seasons and Tides, Everything In . . . Then back Outside!
Listen! There’s no such thing As no chance For redemption, As long as the Soul accepts God’s correction. And tho’ at times He may feel Heavy-handed, This weight is naught But His Light Having landed.
If all things are means, Then means are the end, Our pleasures and pains But a river’s bend; So flow, flow on my soul, Let go . . . once again.
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Previous Posts
Forgetfulness
posted 3:00:30am Jun. 19, 2013 | read full post »
As Seasons Come and Go
posted 3:00:55am Jun. 18, 2013 | read full post »
Lessons in Leaving Behind the Rushed Life
posted 3:00:26am Jun. 17, 2013 | read full post »
Remembering the Presence of Love
posted 3:00:18am Jun. 14, 2013 | read full post »
(Audio) Silence is Golden
posted 12:00:42pm Jun. 13, 2013 | read full post » |