bi_janus Posted April 26, 2017 Report Share Posted April 26, 2017 John (1983) Bi Janus In the night perhaps, Your parents and the priest Huddled about your crib And plunging their hands Into your lovely chest Girded your heart With a circle of thorns. So that when you took The road to Emmaus You reviled yourself Met on the path. On that road I knew Your heart beneath thorns And when we loved The moments of joy lived Until every joy was pricked By those thorns I could never unwind. At the last You in the chair Your search for love ending I held your wasted hand And when you asked If Jesus of the Sacred Heart Wreathed in thorns loved you I lied and whispered To the last sense to leave A lie—Yes. Link to comment
Cole Parker Posted April 26, 2017 Report Share Posted April 26, 2017 Wow! Incredible! C Link to comment
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