Poetry

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At the foot of my bed, on the floor
I sat heavy hearted and poor,
When i heard a knock on the door,
Stood a man with fiery eyes and a cross he bore.

I was captivated by his beauty,
to fall at his feel was merely my duty,

Lord, is there any sacrifice great enough
to cover every blemish and sin?
Is there any way to transform
into sheep the wolf within?

I stood before Him in my shame and guilt,
no fortress to lean on that I had once built.

Child, I see no blemish or sin,
nor stranger or danger or wolf within.

He asked me for your soul,
but I crushed him under my sole.
He asked me for your ashes,
But I turned my back and showed him my lashes.

You were always mine,
I set you apart before there was time.
Come dine at the feast and the wedding,
for the Word has become flesh, the Word that had no beginning.

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