Originally uploaded by Con Ryan
Tattered, bare,
Yet still I see
The sun's sweet flare.
I still have scars,
Doubts and fears,
But Jesus counts
All of my tears.
Something changed inside,
My life has been made new,
But only when heaven comes
Will final rest be won.
The walls that still encroach
Are only here for now,
I'm looking upward to
The glorious world made new.
2 comments:
I hear hymns in your poetry.
*smiles*
I was kind of hearing a tune as I wrote it, too. I wonder what you hear.
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