Thursday, October 13, 2011

A Quiet Spirit

In the quietness of the morning,
The eyes are awakened to the chirpings of the bird,
Craving solitude amidst busyness and chaos,
The heart and soul wishes to hide

The body continues to labour,
Twenty four seven spinning and twirling,
Each quiet moment is precious,
More esteemed than gold or diamonds

The soul is forced to move along,
As the body wishes to follow the world,
Yet it has its own mind,
A free spirit that only has one wish

Communion with its Maker is its sole desire,
Longing to dwell in that secret place,
Abiding in the shadow of the Mighty One,
Only then it can truly rest

A quiet and gentle spirit
The unfading beauty of being alone
The soul hungers and thirsts for it
Where flesh and heart may fail
but the soul shall have its life

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