Glory Hidden In View
It beckons from deep inside; we notice not a thing;
It's in the wind that's blowing; the song the meadowlark sings.
A stranger passed in the street, displays it with a smile;
It's shrugged off as just nervousness and we miss it by a mile.A homeless chap holds a door open, and we think how sad and crude;
no idea of it being thoughtful; just quick thoughts that are so rude.
Back home to the bright, warm house; safety; refuge; home;
Feeling like we're there alone; if we'd just let our heart start to roam.Through out each day it shows itself; the beauty of our Father's love;
to see it, if we use our hearts; not our eyes; we'd find this peace from Heaven above.by CountryPoet®
Glory Hidden In View©1999
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