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If You'd Only Stop and Listen by Evan Crealock The kiss of frost was there again. You could feel it in the air. Season�s pages had turned And all the trees stood bare. This morning was colder than the rest A haunted shadow of winter�s early dawn His hood nearly covered his eyes, As he stepped again across the lawn. A year to date had been the day When he was left alone. His mom came crying, saying Dad was never coming home. He paced down the street, and stood upon the bridge Every step a memory of all that he had lost. Simple prayers seemed to escape As they echoed in the frost. These early walks had been the same An escape from the constant noise But on this day, all alone He swore he heard a voice. Purple dawn was slowly retreating The cloud scarfed sun could not be tamed. There was no one in sight But someone called his name. No bird was singing, no chimes were dancing And not a car was on the street. He removed his hood, began to cry As he heard that voice repeat. �My son, My son� was what it said �I�ve heard your silent prayers.� His knees hit the sidewalk As his shirt was stained with tears. So simple a phrase To some they seem just words It was all that kept him from jumping �cause he knew that God had heard It seems that those who seem so broken Offer prayers to a God so far away. They ask for help, but never wait To hear what He has to say. Stop and listen for just a moment. Hear the call beside the noise When you least expect it You�ll swear you heard a voice. Always watching, always waiting Even when hope has ceased to glisten His voice is always there If you�d only stop and listen. |