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Let Our Perception Bless

I do not understand the gift
so differing from mine;
I seek for one the spirits lift,
not sensing of decline.

And, still I hear the words of old,
foretelling of demise.
Where are the hopeful words of gold,
the outcome that we prize?

The skepticism issues forth,
at unfamiliar ways,
of expression, still the worth,
we're cautioned not dispraise.

Oh, let us, open heart and mind,
Your worthy wisdom seek,
that best construction we may find
as others act and speak.

You speak to us in ways diffuse;
some painful to receive.
Help us to recognize and use,
what Your Spirit would not grieve.

©01/19/2014 Carol Welch
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