Sometimes Poem by cheryl davis miller

Sometimes it is necessity.
Sometimes it's simply about me.
That life will try to steal my time
negate my will; and fill my mind.

To rob You of my treasure place
where I behold Your precious face.
To leave me broken laid to waste.
Your presence practically erased.

Then in Your mercy; You reach down
and turn my thought-life back around.
Til I see You; as You see me
returning to intimacy.

Sometimes it's been necessity
sometimes; it simply has been ME.

c.d.m.1-31-11