THE STRUGGLE
Heather Kendall
Lord,
why keepest
Thou
this gilded
cage
wherein I
dwell?
For I am
Mira’s sister-
Lord, we were
born together
on Thy
windswept boughs
of Time.
Thy eyes
seekest me
but I am
caught
midst
branches of Thy making-
seeking the
sweet solace
of Thy song.
I yearn to
hear the voice
of Thy love
whisper
through the leaves
that gently
fill my heart;
each one a
friend
gone home to
thee
as seasons
go.
I yearn to
sing to thee
My God, but
my song is faint-
falling on deaf
ears of Thy making.
Wherein dost
Thou dwell?
Art Thou the
silence of the lily?
The Gold in
husks of corn?
I eat of thee
yet know
Thy spirit
not.
I dream of
thee and find
burst bubble
in my mind.
Thou art my
soul
and yet I
know thee not-
Come find me Lord!
Come, dream
my dreams
and wake my
slumbering eyes
to Thy
kingdom within;
For Thou art
the Love I’ve lost
to win again;
The bird that
beats
my heart
with fettered
wings.
There are
certain Ones
I will always
be a child with
No matter
what
They will
dance in my heart
and sing
songs through my soul
always
laughing just a little
while to find
the smile
The peace
within
Themselves
they are not only
extensions of
my own
life’s
longing to be loved
With just a
touch
of
selfishness for self
Less seen in
their own eyes than mine
for I am
theirs and they are Thine
Of beloved
and divine
Yet
impersonal transition
Transcending
what divides
nature’s
corporeal omniscience
I see in them
my own
small
struggle with pain
just half
around the corner
of this game
we call Life.