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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1627100
Our seperation from God.
The waves rushed gently against my feet.
The whistling trees blew softly in the wind.
The birds that sang their morning melody;
Told us that spring would soon begin.

The warmth of the sun’s long distant rays,
The sand beneath my feet;
The tides rising in the distance,
Telling me a storm is near, and to retreat.

The shells that washed upon the beach;
The clouds covered the creamy pastel sky,
The songs of the wrens were gone for now,
Until the eye of the storm rolls by.

The sun’s rays no longer present,
Rain fell from the Heavens in layers.
The sirens rang in my mind,
It was time to send God my prayers.

Oh! Dear Lord, hear my plea.
My voice as soft as the sea;
A Babe’s cry for long I seek.
The storm will cast his cry.

All of the sudden, the storm had passed.
A tear rolled down my cheek.
Not of sadness, despair or grief,
But of happiness and grief.

Oh! Lord, you heard my cry.
My Babe so long from me.
I hope to reach him before night,
Let the river carry me.

Like the tears that rolled from my eyes,
And the moon that guided me.
I thank thee for your help from here
With my separation of the sea.
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