There is a thief in my life
i am being rob.
The thing that is taken is not money,
for they are unimportant.
It is not friendship,
nor even time,
which are more important still,
but they have not been touched.
What is being robbed
is a time of quiet,
a time to reflect,
a time to ponder and pray.
Too much busyness,
to cold to sit on the porch
or to escape in the quiet of the evening.
that which has been stolen will be returned,
but will i survive until then?
These kept me company until the beginning of December and they are gone today.
They helped me find that quiet place in my soul,