Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Window


My mind’s eye is a window with panes of glass to my soul.  This ever rotating glass houses the delicacies of my heart.  Heavenly promises I see in the flashes of light beyond.  That is, if I am looking then.  Sometimes my eyes are closed.  Sometimes I refuse to see.  Too often, I am blind. 

Misunderstandings blur my eyes.  Erred perceptions scrape away the cones.  False discernments taint clarity and the glass stains with each drop of blood.  Sightless, I fumble for light beyond.  Unseeing, my life grinds on, dragging through the sand. 

Even still, the light shines through.  Sometimes I even look to see it. 

 

 

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