Dear Lord, I feel the warmth of your smile now.
Is it because I've prayed for thy will for me?
Recollection of a once existing innocense surfaces in my thoughts.
It is the "good-times' I've heard spoken of.
Back then, those first sips were like the warmth of your smile.
Was that a seedling of misguided instinct?
There was no questioning of motives, or confusion about direction then.
It was, sadly, the renaissance of deceit.
Surely I cannot stay long in this familiar space.
Will this be a wound that will go unhealed?
Thoughts of that time are dressed in self-pity and with accessories the color of regret.
But for today; Thank you Dear Lord- It will be instead a beautiful bud of the second Promise.
Circa 1990
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