There's a freedom I've been seeking, but have not quite yet attained.
There's a suspicion I'm believing that most people feel the same.
There's getting buried in our burdens and throwing blinders on our eyes.
There are excuses for our worries and fears we're going to die.
There's a baby full of laughter that takes us far away from pain.
When that baby starts his crying the wounds are felt again.
There's work that's always waiting as I procrastinate.
There are things that weren't written that could have changed today.
There are words never spoken that start stopping up my throat.
There's new fuel for a fire once we stir up the old coals.
There's sun up in the morning and moon gray overnight.
There's rest within each story when the readers close their eyes.