Richard Norway
 

 
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by Richard Norway

Outside my window, a tree grows.
Itís spreading life to which it owes
Itís majesty to the One that made me
But knows not...not me.

My soul, my happiness sprang from that tree
With the knowledge of our parents that He
Created me, me such as that tree
To be.

Desires I know not from their origin
Escape my heart to be free.
But the tree has no desires, except
To be.

I live in my world outside of that tree
Knowing that he is just like me.
But we are the same, created by He
To be.

Bobby is gone by his trembling hand
To slip away from his terrible stand
For he tried to be like that tree
To be.

Souls will mesh when this body gives
Up to the maker of that tree.
Then I will be one with another
To be.

 

 

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