Thursday, December 9, 2021

making gold

The child wears no shoes.

A traveling man, sandals worn thin 

he sways raggedly, eyes in mourning

Grim legs have borne many knights far 

(they are) come too late for their king.

Too late for his final breaths.

too late yet thousands of years remain, transfixed, 

pulled by their heartstrings to their master's, to the chords he played.

by His fiber that winds the world in from the great spool of His heart, bringing to him

bringing feet and hearts tearing at the Earth pleading

                    Take me to Him!

Let me feel the heather where his blood will fall

tread with pain and tears His walk

let me feel his gaze, his 

real

-ness and I will follow!

Follow.

                            Blood so thick it has dyed the angels' wings

                His love strong and brilliant it turns the world

                Gold

the sky, 

our walls melt

                He re forms life

He 

is the alchemist

And a man in chains begs Please Lord, Please

(this man is me and many others)

beg without a voice for who can speak now,

beg Please, we (the thousands of years) watch him in the garden 

His Clasped hands and white knuckles, his fervent eyes raging at 

Pain so great He called it mercy, He calls it obedience.


Silent night, holy night

an infant rests unknowing

The sky is spun of gold, threads to eternity

and they are thick with hope

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