A Love plagued with wounds
Lord, As much as I want to imitate your love Your special love, the only perfect one I can’t help but realize That my love is so handicapped. My love for You And my love for others Is so imperfect… Plagued with unconscious wounds. And most of the time The love of myself unknowingly Gets in the way Of my love for others. Lord, see to it that my love Wounded in essence And wounded by life experience Does not wound… Does not wound Those I genuinely Intend to surround And embrace with my love.
Norbert Piché
Posted at 09:03h, 27 JanuaryThanks Dodzi. That is such a beautiful poem reflecting our reality so well.
Peter Bisson
Posted at 10:24h, 27 JanuaryThank you very much Dodzi!
Mike Hyland
Posted at 12:30h, 27 JanuaryBeautiful poem Dodzi. Thanks!