Let Sleep the Wake

Prone to maneuver by the wake

I pondered trouble every day.

Misshapen dreams to change the past

To right the wrongs–to live at last.

But wrongs don’t right so eyes upcast

And shoulders back, hands on the wheel.

Turbulence tests the captain’s skill

And wild winds whip sordid wisps

in eyes dulled by pain and strife.

So I think of love and He’ll come again

And kiss my brow and hold my hand.

And more and more does my skill grow

As I steer my ship from downward tow.

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