Sometimes as I lie awake at night, my head begins to feel heavy with the clutter piling up in the recesses of my mind. Continue reading “Pillow Talk”
Your love, O Lord, has substance I can feel,
A weight that holds this anxious wand’rer still,
Arrested by the strange, forgotten peal
Of heart-strings played at their Creator’s will.
Today I passed a man who carried within him
What I could not see, could not touch