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As I Reflect With This Given Time

The days of Old when once were heard
Proverbial sayings, Proverbial words;
Somehow slipped from Memory
buried ‘neath the weeping trees.

Simple spoken words of Love
carried on the wings of doves.
Leaves Question with thee each concern;
for fear someday that we may burn.

The Gates of Hell may open wide.
Lies and Truth may then collide.
For Fears too soon to be erased,
May then be how our lives are based.

For the Passions deep within us all,
carry the power of our hidden calls.
To Save, Rejoice, and Live once more,
May we travel Beyond the Sacred Door.

Cindy J. Buechler
Cindy J. Buechlerhttps://creativejeanblossoming.wordpress.com/
My Poetry, Photography, and Journals hold treasure from grade school to high school to adult school, which I'm still attending ... just waiting for the final grade. Each layer of life reveals a new truth and with age, it becomes apparent that time is my greatest rival. My hope is to reflect with words and pictures that offer comfort, insight, and wisdom for a life well-lived with peace and tranquility in the end.

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