The Journey Poem by Eric Bult

The Journey



Within my brain resides my spirit self.
There is no way in which it may be seen,
Like some exhibit kept upon a shelf,
It leaves no evidence that it has been,
When, in response to order from beyond
Our universe, it moves to Group HQ;
Where it recalls and yet again responds
To previous lives and orders to renew
A gradual development, toward
An almost perfect state of holiness
Which, though not saintly, is a true reward
For understanding and for steadfastness.

Though long this journey has a blessed way
Of preparation for our final day.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Life
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