Written for a friend

This poem arose today

This poem awakened

Before it  knew what to say

This poem was once dead

And painted red

This poem trusts In where

It is being led

This poem hungered and thirsted

And so by Grace fed

This poem was written

Thousands of times before

Any word was ever said

This poem is listening

To the pen imprinting

Across a page Gracefully

This poem…

Is without end

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