according to your promise to your
servant.
- Psalm 119: 76
The rain fell like bails of hay rolling from the clouds. I called you, but you never picked up. I let the phone ring over and over again. I bet you were fast asleep. I bet you were dreaming sweet dreams. And I pray those dreams tumble down like drowning waters. Floods on Mondays. Wet horizons. Greens and grays and all the day's almost gone. Because sometimes life gets so hard that you just want to get away. And so I pray those dreams take you to that secret place where all is perfect.
Tell me, what is perfect to you?
1 comment:
no blogs for a month :(
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