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Though Glass be My Window

Though glass be my window

 see I cannot.

This illusion I cling to,

the path one doth trot.

​

Though here I gallop

and whinny through mist,

You, without crop guide

with gentlest kiss.

​

You spoke, "Awake daughter,

I've breathed into you,

I say trust in me,

slow to trot, follow through".

​

And so I awoke,

there on bended knee,

to mist slowly clearing,

abounding mercy.

​

For,

though naught I knew, 

I galloped to you.

each singular moment,

wrong choices made true.

​

Through your gentle mother who led me to you.

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Hail Mary, I pray,

lovingly undo knots,

made by mine own, and by others

great faults.

​

You shattered the glass 

that here dawned mine eyes

so that I should see myself

through my Father's eyes. 

​

Gratitude

Gratitude,

a platitude,

when falsified the attitude.

​

Grateful? Yes.

But then, to what?

You deny Him with eyes glued shut.

​

Grateful to thin air? Perhaps.

Grateful to the grass?

An ass?

​

Grateful to the MoOn abOvE

Yet you deny the Lord of Love. 

​

Be grateful, yes,

But then direct it. 

Make it known to Him who lent

your life, your love, your very being.

Show it now with bended kneeling. 

​

Pray and thank God for this day.

​

Do not pose,

posture,

and cheaply say,

that you are SO grateful,

"LOOK AT ME!"

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Show that it is owed to the

one who gave His Life for you.

​

It is HE you should be grateful to. 

CURIOSITY AND CANDOUR

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