the day after good friday

Inspiration, Mittineague Park, Poetry

I wait.

I become still.

I ask

“What next God?”

I wait.

Until I have a clear message.

I trust.

In silence.

This morning

I went to the park

Down the street.

The trees are blooming.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s