Your oversight of precious worth
Sustaining life apart from mirth
Blind to glances of loving care
Leaving lost senses unaware

Despair’s song the mourning dove sings
You were meant to hear such things
Shadows hide the sunlit glare
In hidden darkness a lifeless lair

But O, the mist of early rain
A calming tear is cry’s refrain
And I look into inviting eyes wide
Into your soul readiness implied

When will you see a clear reflection
From glassy pool receive affection
It is not your emptiness that looks at me
‘Tis abiding Spirit who rests in thee.

(c) 2015 rick stassi