IN THE SPACE OF CRICKET SONG

I hear the crickets’
trilling song,
+++++the windows wide,
+++++the night so warm,
the gentle tune
a mental balm
rubbed in so thick,
with lulling layers.

I sink to sound my soul
and start to feel
some profound prayers
for me, myself (my number one),
and those for whom I really care
spread all across this curved earth home,
as well as those
now in full vision
of the Kingdom,
who moved in with
the man upstairs.

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This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Prayer, Seasons, Summer and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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