The touch of His grace makes my eyes see anew.
It flows through my entire body calming and cooling like morning dew.

What must I be thinking when I hide from your touch?
The question answers itself. I’m thinking too much.

Anger and frustration begin to boil as I try on my own
extremely unprofitable in my toil.

Peace and Rest my soul longs so much. Alas I hear your voice
saying “my son” that only comes from my touch.


Sincerely in Christ,

Clifford D. Tate, Sr.
Author, Silent Assassins of the Soul (not yet published; coming soon)