How can I write of Love
When it is just a fantasy in my mind
How can I tell of pleasures I find
In dreams and musings
As I roam the vast wilderness of Creation
What am I this spec of dust in the big Schematic
All have a function
Fine details are God’s immaculate way
So little old me must have a purpose
In this Genius Creation which fills me with awe
each breath that I breathe
O God my Beloved of all
Let me free from Humanity
To Soar to heights of Ecstasy
To fulfill this yearning in the depth of my Soul
Sun beams down flooding white sand
Ocean cries my pain
When it is just a fantasy in my mind
How can I tell of pleasures I find
In dreams and musings
As I roam the vast wilderness of Creation
What am I this spec of dust in the big Schematic
All have a function
Fine details are God’s immaculate way
So little old me must have a purpose
In this Genius Creation which fills me with awe
each breath that I breathe
O God my Beloved of all
Let me free from Humanity
To Soar to heights of Ecstasy
To fulfill this yearning in the depth of my Soul
Sun beams down flooding white sand
Ocean cries my pain
Believe O Soul
Believe O Soul
Believe O Soul
© 2019 Patricia Amundsen
No comments:
Post a Comment