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G i f t   E x c h a n g e

Yesterday the sun shone bright
Upon my face, and at the sight
I found myself alone to be
Encompassed by a misery

A feeling here, a feeling gone.
With borders sure as right and wrong
I lay my frozen heart aside
To live the life my mind hath lied.

Today the sun shines not upon
This face that bears that which is gone,
Yet light from that which calms the soul
Shall warm my heart and make it whole.

I take these hands that dig my grave
And lift my mind, the blinded slave.
I leave it at a throne of grace;
A withered heart to take its place.

Tomorrow, though be yet to come,
Stories love can tell us from.
Be them dreams, or lifeless tales,
To God, my life, my life that fails.

A man within, a man without.
A man with all that he can doubt.
‘Tis I, no less than he alone,
The man that falleth short the throne.

-Ron Maxwell

note:  I wrote this poem many years ago

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