Conversations with friends

Are like book markers in a book;

They give immediate context of where we’re at,

Remind us of the ground we’ve covered

And give us a sense of what is still to come.

Words that bubble through the air

From their lips to our hearts

As though they were always meant to live there.

Perhaps our friends will never quite know

How meaningful their pauses are,

How important it is,

To know that they are listening.

These cherished words

These book marks

These faith signposts every day,

Are the voluntary ornaments of gold

That punctuate our way.

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