Habit Is the Hand that Shapes the Heart
Habit is the hand
that shapes the heart.
A soul becomes the soldier of its
faith.
Peace prevails through courage and by
art.
Pride is vanity, the preacher saith.
Yet
love is sky to mountains and to seas.
Evil and good lie
blissful in its arms.
All may find that joy with equal
ease,
Sunlight radiant above life's
storms.
The character is written on the
face
Even as the soul receives its
grace,
Restored to innocence and on its
knees.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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