Wednesday, June 22, 2005

out here on the deck,
in the quiet of the evening,
with the fireflies
flickering through the fading light,
i come to you,
Gentle God.

from another fizzled day,
i would fall into the comfort
of your cradling arms;

by the noisiness of the world,
i would surround myself
with your healing silence;

from burdens
i have carried too far,
i would offer them to you
to throw into your sea
of everlasting peace.

comforted, stilled, lightened,
i go into the house,
to rest in Spirit's embrace.


(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

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