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  • My Fathers House

    I went to my Fathers house today,

    but It wasn’t in a church.

    It wasn’t anywhere quiet,

    or peaceful in that way.

    Rather it was noisy, 

    people jostling getting in the way.

    Lost in thought, word and deed

    in the hurly burly rain.


    Yes.. I went to my Fathers house today,

    I met him on the train.

    We talked a little, not too much,

    as I sipped my coffee 

    and thought of the day,

    and how I was going to make it through

    another long and chaotic day.


     I went to my Fathers house today,

    as I stared at the screen,

    and the words went grey and then I 

    thought I heard him say.

    Stop.. be still, be silent, be present,

    because each day with you is always the same,

    I can barley get two words in.

    Your worried about this,

    your worried about that,

    your worried about being worried,

    where is the sense in that?

    so child I am asking you this once, to sit with me

    Quietly for a minute in your day.

    I know you can do it,

    if you let me lead the way.


    So I went to my Fathers house today,

    it was noisy, it was loud, there was no 

    peace to be found. 

    But as I looked out the window, 

    hanging limply on a tree ,

    I spied a small blossom,

    almost unnoticeable it was hard to see.

    I uttered a small prayer to the Father, 

    I was present at last, awake from my slumber

    for a minute and a half.

    Maggi O

    😂😂😂 lol...  I hope you enjoyed this and will join me in the daily struggle to be ever present to the Fathers voice in a world which constantly demands our attention.








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    Thank you for your poem, Maggie! If you haven't done so already, you might want to go to the Meet and Greet section of this site and introduce yourself to the group. Blessings on all your writing!

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