Thursday, November 11, 2004

Stirring of the Soul



Sometimes it happens

That stirring of the soul

That electric buzzing in the hands

The heightened awareness

Sometimes it comes without warning

Or comes when we call

This intuition we call it

That warns of disturbances brewing

This panic button of the mind

Dare we fail to heed its warning?

We call it our quiet voice

Or little bird talking

Even Holy Spirit

But it’s there by any name

Guiding us, leading us, warning us

Take not for granted your little bird

Your inner voice, your stirring

Heed its call and move to action

The next time you feel

It moving.

Photo: Stock Photos

1 comment:

francess757 said...

That was an awesome poem. I hope you don't mind if I add you to my Journal picks!