He does not tremble upon my finger;
After he is gone I will remember;
The vision of him will continue to linger;
The recollection in autumn days;
Long after the expiration of his exsistence;
I will envision him sitting upon my hand;
Without the slightest resistance;
I am in wonder as he is of me;
The world around it will abound;
For all who care to see;
That there is love in the slightest thing;
Its not to be ignored;
A call into darkness is made for life;
For that which man implored;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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