
If ever I should become a Love~ poet of sorts’
and I should answer love’s highest call
to be won like thunder on cloudy days or
quietly sit in God’s terrain, smell the sweet fragrance of prayers drifting by
dripping with desperate pleas’ and why, why why,
but suddenly in the foggy trance of grace.
in the midst and in the haze
there but only love should appear,
to drown out our puddles of gloom and fear,
lead us to a secret place,
change our dirty garments, give us holy names
with no more worry, no more pain
wrap us in infinite arms…
I’ll say I met the poet’ of poets’
all that God is, and all that love is,
and all that God is,
Love…
kindness sister Krissy