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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.

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!"

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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