Sunday, March 16, 2003

Every Cold Night
By Carlo Montaño

Every cold night,
I wait at His house,
Nothing fancy, just simple and plain.

The cold is unnerving,
Yet why am I still waiting?
For Him to answer my call.

He’s just a man,
Nothing unusual and strange,
But why am I waiting outside of His house,
Praying to Him to open the door.

My bones are chilling,
But why am I anxious,
To talk to this guy about life,

I’m still standing in this winter frost.
He’s just normal like me,
But why am I yearning,
To hear His answers to my questions within,

I’m freezing in this cold shroud,
But why am I waiting outside this plain house,
Yearning to see this ordinary man,
And His answer to my call,

Every cold night.

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