RevivalA Poem by Faith
I still hear the whispers from that old creek bed, not all is lost, not all is dead.
Although the leaves fall and the water stands still, the growth to come remains at will. No broken sticks or rocks laid barren, can end the truth that lies there in. That cold, hard ground will surely give way, to life, to love, to freedom one day. © 2015 FaithFeatured Review
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2 Reviews Added on December 27, 2015 Last Updated on December 27, 2015 AuthorRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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