by Dripping Springs Poet Laureate Doyle Morgan Fellers
Mine to Hold
My mind is numbed by hours of waiting.
Empty, endless hours of wondering.
Thoughts that circle–then fall against a wall.
I spend hours engaged in meaningless ramblings.
Trapped in a vacuum, bone dry and cold,
A chamber filled with doubt, a squalid septic stall.
Still I have a deep within a glint of faith, of hope.
A spark that keeps the flame inside alive–
And I will not give in, nor heed the call.
The call to cast away the truths, the core of our beliefs.
So set within our hearts, so deep within our souls.
Therein lies the faith to overcome, when others ’round us fall.
There is good, there is right, in these simple truths.
To which we cling, to which we hold so dear.
Life, liberty, and freedom one and all.