The Call

A gift is meant to be given freely and without merit . . . such is the heart that loves. – Kay Salady

Beyond interpretation 

Is the sanctity of love

Mere words cannot define

Its beauty or the fragrance of

A moment in its splendor

Nor the memory of its bliss

The heart cannot contain

The awesome wonder of its gift

The Master has imparted

Upon each cherished soul

To whom he calls beloved

Something rare and beautiful 

And from his open hands

We pass this glowing ball

From one heart to another

When we hear the sacred call

To love

©Kay Salady


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About Kay Salady

I write about the greatest force on earth that, I believe, lives on forever and surpasses all else. "All your poems read like I am watching an artist use words instead of colours full of feeling." ~Anon.

Posted on June 18, 2017, in kay salady's poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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