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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.

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Click Here to contact Evan Crealock to request permission to use this poem.