A love’s
reserved when wells are dry
Whose dust
reflects its soul
Whose echoes
sound the silent cry
Of eyes’
unwatered shoal
Now all
that’s dried and thirsting ground
Seeks some
untempered truth
From
different streams seeks to be drowned
In someone
else’s youth
But others’
love won’t breach these walls
Nor heal its
crumbling rock
Till purer
flow from purer falls
Restores its
absent stock
A pallid
love which seeks repair
Can hope for
nothing real
Till truer
love leaves hearts laid bare,
Fills hearts
which truly feel
If here we
gave enough of love
To tame a
cynic’s views
I think
there’d be still more above
To fill the
empty pews.
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