Cecelia Weir

Rookie - 211 Points (March 19,1955 / Fayette, Alabama)

The Yeilding - Poem by Cecelia Weir

He sends the birds
To wake me each day.
Somewhere from a tree
Or a fence across the street
Though they sing so sweet
I know not what they say.

He sends the rain
To readjust the earths fluids.
And without a word
I automatically become leveled
As my senses get involved
And my body adjusts to it.

There are thunderstorms
To change the stubborness of my will.
Nature and I are humbled
By thoughts of remorse
For unto the Master
Our spirits do yeild.

Comments about The Yeilding by Cecelia Weir

  • Brian Dorn (5/11/2006 9:47:00 AM)

    Cecelia, yes, the 'Master' has a way of extolling and humbling us almost simultaneously. Interesting write! !
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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 11, 2006

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