In Faith
Bush tracks
and me up back,
holding tight, hair blowing.
Billowing dust and sing, I must,
in faith.
In faith
and just a child,
my heart was soaring, free.
I sang of Jesus' perfect love
for me.
For me?
How wonderful!
Then, as I faithful sang,
I heard a thousand blended notes,
a choir.
A choir
of angels sang,
exclusively for me.
How privileged that I should feel
such bliss.
Such bliss
I often know
and hear the angels sing;
anywhere, not only down
bush tracks.
Graphic: Jane Huber
Form: cinquain chain
By cherryk
© 2009 cherryk
(All rights reserved)
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