Your Hand In My Pocket

No, it's not there because I think you're going through my pockets (smiling) It's because I care for you, worry about you when you're not around, look for you and wonder if life is treating you decently, I CARE for you, read what you write, try and feel what you feel, and keep your hand in my pocket to re-assure me you are fine, you are alive and happy and perfect in your world.

I wrote this poem/prayer for my FAMILY MEMBERS to show them how I feel, what I feel, why I feel, and I want to give it to you, my friends, my dear dear fellow writers, my Constant Reader.

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All good courage my fate to bear, and in so bearing, accept.

To honor a family that remembers.

You are my family. Now.

Take this writing from my heart,

which bears falsely to furor and envy -

Cease O storm!

By the Lord's own orders shall your waters be calmed.

Hasten all troubles from their door,

this is my Family - which is every family, which are children of the children we love.

I whisper up this prayer

on the light of a candle,

for the hearts and souls of those who yearn to be healed, and come alive -

to breath unencumbered,

always in the shadow of His watchfulness and protection.

I seek my Lord, to help me embrace and befriend this physical pain of my constant complaint,

and in so doing

be more silent and grateful.

For you. My family. My constant ones.

All joy is mine to share

as I walk in the light of new days and rest in the comfort of familiar nights,

My gratitude is to my Lord - with praise, power, and promise.

He blessed me with you.

What manner of foe

dare cry victory o'er me?

Another day of light and life is bestowed upon us, where lies another miracle more worthy!

The heart refuses to let go

of what the mind cannot forget,

and I will never forget

YOU.

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Thank you for being in my Life, and sharing yours with me, so willingly. A shower of sweet stars upon you my dear friends.......................