My Father found this place for me; my Mother beckons me in.

They know my fear; They know all of me better than I know myself.

It must be time for me to be unafraid; to go with my Brother and Sisters.

They found this place for me; for, it is my Mother I am modeled after.

I cling to Father with a deathgrip; and, I learned to think like Him.

No, He said, you are my daughter; it is time to meet your Mother.

Then, I can walk with my sisters beside our Brother; to tell of our

Grandfather, the seed of love and our Grandmother the sustenance of life.

Together, They brought the Spirit of Love to life;

and, taught the next generation. Let me honor that spirit well.

A Dusty Soul


Posted on September 13, 2006, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. wonderful to see that you have plunged straight in and have begun posting Chari. Welcome to the Abbey. It is a wonderful place for solitude.

  2. Thank you. The title said it all though, whew! I have another spot on word press that I keep frustration in; but, I was wondering where I go to peel onions, I love that. Did you see Shreck? I never know how many layers to reveal. The amount that I don’t know is getting depressing.

  3. See, I think I wrote this in thw wrong place. I was just ging to write; the internet part gets confusing. Sorry for my ignorance.

  4. You have not written this in the wrong place. It is just fine here. There are no requirements about what you put in the Abbey. Your piece is reflective and contemplative. So don’t stress!

  5. This is a tremendously thoughtful and soul-delving poem which I enjoyed reading. You really don’t need to stress here – it’s the Abbey – you chill, you reflect, you write and if you need help you ask someone – nobody flounders here. I loved it – still love it. Welcome.

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