Each Mote Of Dust
J
James McLain
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There must be a million way's,
That one can come.
I came to you,
Before I ever knew what love,
Could do.
And many dancing,
Mote's of dust, each one.
Was one of you.
That was by me when,
Then and when is now.
A nest when it is full,
As it was then.
Each sparrow leaving found.
Love it never knows,
When it is young.
That I, through endless,
Searching,
Sought in searching.
You I found.
And love in you, I found
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