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In SecretWherever I go Whatever I say Someone is listening Along the way. On my walks Or in my room There are talks In secret… Where prayers bloom. Only One knows All my tears. Only One removes My greatest fears. In secret, my Father Has heard me- In the stillness Where thoughts fly free. No one but He is able to see Where we Commune So privately. I enter my closet Making the choice To humbly wait Upon His voice. The door is shut At His command As He Opens my mind To understand. This closet is secure And forever mine Secretly made By Master design. Matthew 6:6 But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. Julie Pisacane © 2007 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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