Updated: Jul 11, 2018
Not who you think I am, I am not who you want me to be
I am tall in the short breaths of life, chilled by the breeze of early spring, warmed by the gentleness of Gods touch.
I am silent as I listen to the trees whistle for the coming of tomorrow.
I am still as I watch the waves move with ripples of joy, I feel the air nestle in my lungs as I inhale the pain slowly exhaling the peace within. The taste of hope tickles my nose as I smell the earth give scents of glorious blossoms.
I am awed by the beauty of His touch, framed in His image, flawed are my yesterdays, in todays perfection of His love.
Angela Sheree Kennedy
This poem has been copy written and exclusively belongs to Author Angela s. Kennedy