Saturday, June 25, 2005

Piper Play On

I come here for clearing
Piper Play on . . .
Wash away the remains of what has gone wrong
Scrub off clinging patches of dried, crusted dirt
Scour out bitter relics of old, festered hurt
Here in the golden throat of your song
Is a note that is sweet, echoed and strong
I will learn of it’s hope, wash away past despair
Until I’m a hollow bowl waiting for prayer
Waiting to be filled with an inspired wine
Nature’s ambrosia, gift of the Divine
Like your song, I’ll come hollow, and wait to be filled
I’ll be the clay where creation will build

I will be the bare canvas
Where the joy dance is drawn
Piper play on . . .
Piper play on . . .


©Edwina Peterson Cross

1 Comments:

At 12:24 AM, Blogger Fran said...

Thank you Winnie I liked this one very much...scour out bitter relics is so necessary. Fran

 

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