Monday, November 6, 2017

The master

Father, I may not read it aright, I may not bear the light...but I seek it.

Every word, a gift you give, I write and send it forth...as though it were your name.

In all love, an instrument that you sustain. servant of your pen.

Namaste



Written by, Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: Fountain pen and paper, google pic


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