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The Gift, Given; The Life, Striven.
I cannot stay asleep, my soul is stirring like it has, ne'er before;
My heart is alive again, as though it were not e'er, before;
My mind is racing, there is so much I wish to impart,
My lips are quivering, as they wait for my mouth to start
Speaking with the beloved source of all this beauteous agitation-
The entirety of my existence is wholly duteous, to the vocation
That is adoration of same-I am not able to explicate this any more;
Though, I do know however, that as time wends, there shall be many more
Reasons for this adoration, as time and love collect them, as gifts, to me;
I await this verity of my heart to meander back-as I hope it shifts to me
Once again, to never fall asunder again; this is all that, for which my heart,
Mind, and soul most ardently hope-the only way that each may possibly cope
With this most profound loss-as now I have only to keep the faith, and hope
For what I know is to be-my long-sought-for life-to finally start!
-Maurice Harris,14 January 2012
poem
by
Maurice Harris
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