Restoration
Loud, angry voices
so often mere steps away
unjust, unwelcome . . .
Your love quietly rains down.
My wounded soul is lifted.
Help them see the rose
nestled there among the thorns.
Loves sweet aroma . . .
among makings of a crown
unworthy for my precious King.
Let me know your love.
Give to me a thankful heart,
filled with compassion.
Joy found among the wreckage . . .
unexpected beauty found!
by Martha L Shaw – copyright 8-10-2012
