Poetry

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"anything" – a response

Prodigious is the Love that would tread flame and tide
To rescue the dust that once turned aside.
Where darkness clung like ash to bone,
A whisper brought the lightness home.

To call it grace would scarce suffice—
A joy that towers, more than nice;
The foregoing of heaven’s choir,
For one soul deep in drowning mire.

But now the tide is turned to song,
The waves retreat where You belong.
She, the gift, lit by design,
Shimmers with the holy sign.

And so I sing not out of debt,
But awed by Love that won’t forget.
For You—the Flame, the Sea, the Shore—
Are joy that opens every door.





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