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