As children bring their broken toys with tears for us to mend
I brought my broken dreams to God because He was my friend.
But instead of leaving him in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help with ways that were my own.
At last I snatched them and cried, "How could you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "What could I do? You never did let go."
Me.....
- Ipshita
- Indore, Madhya Pradesh, India
- I love the stillness of the wood: I love the music of the rill: I love to couch in pensive mood Upon some silent hill. Scarce heard, beneath yon arching trees, The silver-crested ripples pass; And, like a mimic brook, the breeze Whispers among the grass. Here from the world I win release, Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude, Break in to mar the holy peace Of this great solitude.....
wow! this one is great
ReplyDeleteThanx!! :)
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