In a passion that could cook skin, Like knuckle-eyed Death at the door, The wild wind whipped Round
Launched into weightless space by the length-less reach of grace. The floating ardor removes our armor— defenses stripped, yet strengthened.
See more of Marks work at markgoodson.com Spiritual Awakening I had an estranged discovery re-surge in me;
What a difference one day makes, how set to rise circles round again. A new dawn breaks