Be it 40 days or 40 years
I hear gentel wispers from the Spirit
Guiding my emotions to tears.

As it turns out,
Consequences manifest my deepest fears.
It will do me no good to scream and shout.

My thoughts acknowleged, but unknown.
The beaten path that I have traveled found me no rest.

I feel deep inside that my heart is torn...
And opening up my deepest, most secure chest
Would only bring up more decayed bones.

My past is forgotten none-the-less.
The shrubs have covered my paths and
The foliage in it's place is beautiful; It is grace.

The Lord's servants planted a seed, and the Lord, Himself provided nourishment, which I gladly accept.
And day by day it consumes me!

Copyright ©2002 Ryan Richard Thompson