By Lawrence J. J. Leonard, April 2015
It’s windy. Its raining.
I’m tired of complaining.
The longer that you call for me the more that I break up.
The thrill of our devotion.
No matter how the punches fly, I still drink from your cup.
It doesn’t really matter if the disciple says it’s time.
The softly spoken magic spell never reaches the sublime.
Whatever song within our hearts can make it to our lips,
That’s the melody we sing, ever in its grip.
It’s freezing. It’s frightening.
Each day a bolt of lightning.
Climbing to the top will only give a better view.
No coaching, cajoling,
no ever present scolding
can stop my dedication to the heart of hearts in you.
Pay no attention to the headlines touting fear and pain and crime.
I come to you with speed and you never have to spend a dime.
Whatever song within my heart can make it to my lips,
That’s the melody I sing, when the time comes.
No one can feel the pull of tomorrow the way that we do.
Nobody can save us because we are brave .
I say it in my dwelling.
Defending every move to make it back to you.
Rejoicing, am voicing
these words to encourage you.
Keep pressing on and pushing.
The only illusion is resting.
Copyright © 1960-2015 Lawrence J. J. Leonard All rights reserved.