My pillow is the cloud,

As I dip my feet in the sea of heaven.

I stand alone on the edge,

And stare into the forever blue.

.. ..

My soul cries to unite,

Yet I am isolated by my pain,

Trapped in the roaring rage,

That slaps at me in consequence.

.. ..

I fear you will not hear my cries,

Even as I lift my eyes,

So I might bathe in your light,

As the tidal wave of change sweeps in.

.. ..

Majestic is your welkin,

As dusk filters down,

I seek the peace of your creation,

And your grace to see me though.

.. ..

For I know not what lies ahead,

I have stumbled in folly,

And tripped over the brier,

I can no longer see the path clearly.

.. ..

So I wait like a sheep for its Shepherd,

Eyes to your empyrean,

For the shelter of your Spirit,

Until I can reach a safe harbor.

© Juneta Key 2009

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