The Nestling


A nestling am I,
crying out to my
mother, mouth open,
ready to receive. My
cries fill the air,
“fill me, Mãe-mãe,”
leave no space for
pride, indifference,
egotistic desires.
Place in my eager
mouth the wisdom of
all time. Fill me to
over-flowing with the
light of Your perfect love.

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6 Responses to The Nestling

  1. gpcox says:

    Good poem, but that photo has me speechless – sorry.


  2. Orchid says:

    lovely poem! is this yr photography? amazing pic!


  3. abichica says:

    Brava! This is lovely..Nothing like this kind of perfect love! 🙂


  4. Great!!!!!!!


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