Free

One thousand chasing voices voraciously call my name.

Constant unimpeded; rattling conversations rule the day.

Worry speaks nonstop; hope shies away, but faith quickly interrupts.

This and that, what to do next; I don’t know, just please, oh please shut up.

Ah, but the silence now beseeches me; silence brings me to that soft place.

All is well, all is well said my fair lady, all is well oh she of much faith.

Our hands now touch, our lips press softly against the skin.

Our love absolute endures these days of trials again and again.

For there is no weapon formed against us that shall prosper.

There is no darkness for this world of ours to ever see.

For peace is delivered by messenger where free is truly free.

J. Allen Wilson © 6/2008