Counting

Her womb awaits, dripping until one day no more.
Such a pool to encompass billions 
With His Name she wets in release of Herself within Herself for nothing exists beyond.

One drop.
And another.
Two carats...

Black and White rivers; with spirit there are real colors that truly live.

He has returned from the demons to make love with Eternity,
Until She conceives the true values of life,
We remain counting bodies She leaks,
Remember each drop from Her stomach releases heaven's barrenness
Unto our feet, our 'lives' are nothing but miracles 
We must pay homage for with sacred patience.

And once She gives birth, we gather the miracles, the diamonds, our bodies,
And offer them back to our new King.

For She has graced our spirits with proof of Their return,
And we waited, counting.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Agustin Avatar
June 14, 2023 at 4:06 AM
Thanks for sharing this... exposing your thoughts through your unique poetic style. Welcome to Poetry Soup. I welcome you with the love of the Lord, expressed by John 3:16 of the Bible, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Be blessed.
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace