Are like book markers in a book;
They give immediate context of where we’re at,
Remind us of the ground we’ve covered
And give us a sense of what is still to come.
Words that bubble through the air
From their lips to our hearts
As though they were always meant to live there.
Perhaps our friends will never quite know
How meaningful their pauses are,
How important it is,
To know that they are listening.
These cherished words
These book marks
These faith signposts every day,
Are the voluntary ornaments of gold
That punctuate our way.
heartinscriber 