Thursday, November 18, 2021

I am a lit candle; the dark of my closet is no match.

I am a rung bell; silence cannot shut me down.

Wherefore, then, this fear?

Who, could judge a flame, or a peal? Your light shines from my chest; your music from my mouth.

There is no race to run nor target to hit. Let me speak your words after you, Lord.

(Letter #2,504)