A resting place in life sublime.
Within,without I look around
To see, to quench my fear.
It runs; it hides and fades into oblivion.
I now have doomed myself to fate.
I work; I strive to find my end,
Yet stand perplexed, is this real?
Bereft, floundering I hide.
Quivers wrench my body.
I want to find again
This peace that evades me
And leaves me cowering.
This poem and picture is original work of Mary Beth Weaver and hereby copyrighted.
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