From a tiny seed an idea came
He’d travel around the globe
To see this thing for himself
To ask, to seek, to probe
He had a burning need to feel
That felt by those with faith.

For he’d not felt a thought in faith
From that day until this
The loss he felt had taken it
And left a fatalist.

The journey back he couldn’t make
His faith he’d not restore
For it was gone, it was long gone
It was gone for evermore.



The words don’t always flow as freely as I would like, but there are times, not often enough I’m afraid, when it’s as if a veritable torrent wants to flow. It is on these occasions that I feel I must write it down. I put my hands on the keyboard and they seem to take on a life all of their own. I love that feeling…it’s precious.