Sonnet 277

In quiet moments when it seems God sleeps
I pray to him half knowing he can’t hear
My murmured pleas that earnestly beseech,
Or fervently thank him for his love and care;
Here echoes do return as joy or pain
So meted in long minutes or brief days,
Those random bursts of sunshine or of rain
That leads me to the hope that heaven sways
Some blessed direction to my lonesome path
That is true lit by some sweet guiding light,
That mine is not a journey filled with wrath,
Its shadowed valleys marked by endless blight;
But if it comes to be I walk alone—
Hope and serendipity were my song.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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