There is a place we can’t see
Where clouds are pink
And rain is sweet.
Where laughter sounds from the air
Much like the wind,
And bugs massage your tired skin.
There is a place where no pain lives
Where joy and peace can float
And down they come
Like a brand new coat.
Most days you sing but often dance
And when you wish you can fly
There is a place
Where distrust and hate are just antiques
Enclosed in glass upon a shelf
Jealousy a word no one can spell
Bitterness and revenge are in the dump
It is more fun to laugh and jump.
So just hang on and someday
We will find this place
And I will chase you up the tree.
Seet Rose
2 comments:
Very nice poem! I liked it.
Sounds, to me, like you are describing heaven!
An appropriate poem, then, if I may say, for passion week.
It's because of the Lord Jesus that I can hang on, while on this pilgrimage- which he already walked for us- toward victory. He did say, after all, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life, no one comes to the Father but by me."
J.E.
Having a good week off or are you working? The poem was for my sister who is debilitated from MS and can no longer move except her mouth. We had a good visit and now I am in Galveston. Please talk to el Buen Senor for her.
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