Night Sky
One star, which few pay attention to, dominating a sky over fields of thirsty brown grass. They labor with care only for food and rest. Few have heard the promises. None have sought to seek. Maybe a curse is spoken. Maybe the illumination in the night sky is too bright. Was there singing? Voices in harmony, beautiful. A chorus of wings, christening the night with glory. Are words spoken to your heart or ears? Is there a burning to seek an answer to a question you haven’t asked? Glory to God. Tonight He has done a great thing. He has come down into the world of the humble and called to Himself the poor. copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr