Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Words of Mormon 1:7

Whisperings.
Gentle whisperings
float by you like a summer breeze
on a sunny day.
The peace that warms your face
rolls softly on like a river with no end.

Thunder.
Roaring thunder
surrounds you like a wind storm
on a gloomy evening.
The urgency that moves your soul
claps loudly like a wave against a rock.

Whisperings.
Thunder.
Both work within me
Guiding me onward, ever onward,
toward the heavenly light
which will one day be my home.

7/4/10

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