Thursday, November 21, 2019
Walking for miles the dirt wouldn’t pave it.
A trail so narrow—the brush we burned it.
Until now is all what’s deserved.
The rest you’ll need to earn it.
A faith ever so birthed.
Not knowing the reward’s girth.
There it’s not, but hope past the next is a tree,
…of gifts for the pain’s in journeying.
What’s so bright would come undone.
Inner speakings for everyone.
You’ve done the good deed without a seed.
Approaching a promise and the watcher believes.
Into the gold two feet walk.
From the scent of destiny, the angels brew a welcoming.
Songs of joy, laughter, and upliftings hear love.
No utterings for breaths speak to it.
What we’d see through created aisles.
A star lit night for the wild-child.