In the morning I call to Her And at the noon and mid day too Night comes and I offer Her My soul, my body to renew. The poems come down by His Grace Through peace when all my mind is still, And of the darkness not a trace Remains when Light descends to fill The mind and heart with plenitude, And then my soul goes deep within And in this mystic interlude I begin the climb to Them again.
Poems 2024 (691)
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