God Haunted

To know

But not experience

To ask

But not receive

To knock

But the door remains closed

Then in that space

that space between waking and sleep

A song arises

Silent yet sung


But not heard

Verses, choruses, melodies

Praise and thanksgiving


New and yet familiar

Now just a whisper

Now gone.


Yet somehow more real

than the daily darkness

that surrounds.


By kathykexel

I've been writing from close to the time I learned to read. Fortunately, almost nothing exists from those days. Throughout my working life, I've jotted down bits and pieces here and there. But now that we m retired, I've run out of excuses not to write.

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