To every brokenness
of our personal hells,
each empty soul ends,
what started so well.
The naked cry of souls,
in search of covering,
to make the broken whole -
is a long road, unending.
Until our searching finds,
the approval of His love,
to firmly set in sound mind
the eye that looks above.
The closure of approval
heals each open wound,
bending levers of evil
to the fulcrum of His will.
Until, in turning they find,
the path that leads home.
But, though our ways wind,
we will never walk alone.
(c) Peter Eleazar @ www.4u2live.net
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