A Fearsome Light
Where the nail meets the wrist
and the tree tops explode
in a firework of birds,
going off in a wild change of heart
and a murmur of clouds
now gets caught in the light
of the razor-sharp wings
of angels, restored to the sky,
there I stand and I sing,
from the rooftops of hurt
and the ashes of dreams
and the emblems of hope:
in this place of truth,
in this fearsome light,
I must turn to you,
till the end of love and time.
Copyright © Jan Thie | Year Posted 2008
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