White wash walls pave streets terraced ways and avenues straight and square- leafy, tree-lined rude and bare.
Urban life has dreary days in grey concrete vagrant hue weathered bricks and wet roads bleak. Cloudy skies bring hope of brightness blue and shining sun- the Master is the One I'll always seek.
Digging for gold is growing old. Be brave and bold not proud.... so speak not loud the still, soft voice is small.... Behind the wall is heard a call.
Unending strength is in us all to search and find.... the truth of ages gone and aeons yet to come.... the gold of human kind that is our hearts' desire- the rose and fire.
Last Edit: Jul 7, 2020 13:51:42 GMT 9.5 by fjrogers
Distant peaks emerge....clear as day. The hermit's lantern turns to guide the way. Hermit's Way - F. J. Rogers