God Tells Me Good Night

		While I'm sleeping, God looks in
		to touch my hair and kiss my cheek.
		He'd like to tell me what He feels
		as slowly by my bed He kneels.
	
		What mysteries could be revealed,
		histories so well concealed?
		Too bad for me His lips are sealed.
		He rises up and off He steals.

		I never ever hear Him speak.

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God watching a white dove

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