With the Lilies and Sparrows

If Love were caused to be a form of life,

an entity that walked upon the earth–

my mind envisions wings of ebony,

with plumage blue as sky and sea and soul;

with eyes that challenge stars to burn as bright

in midst of day; with voice that roars like winds

and murmurs like the breeze; with talons sharp

as sabers; light of foot and soft as mist

in lighting on the nest inside the heart.

What wonder, then, that Love would choose to come

as one like me, would choose to don this flesh

and walk this painful road to Paradise

that I might join Him there eternally.

My soul cries out for joy; words fail me.

Posted on March 12, 2013, in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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