silence the inner-critic and what remains?
my Manifest Destiny?
foreign lands and growing pains?
as in the pains of child birth
which even my physical body has yet to know?
I will surely groan all the days of my life
when patience claims it’s victory.
YOU tell me there is more to me
than what I know beneath this home
I’ve called my rock
that there’s another Rock
to stand upon,
not lie beneath.
and you tell me it is you.
if I could see the light of Your face,
if I could walk to Your door
with a smile in my heart, through my spirit, of my soul, and on my face
if I could because I’m sure of the hope of Your promises
if I could because I’m certain of the me that You tell me of
even though I cannot see her
of the me completely and eternally abiding in you
Copyright © 2018 A.M. Wilsonne