Infants

Snapped in their prime,
hurried out of pains, 
to join innumerable companies of angels. 
death, a mighty remedy to allay their troubles, 
their wants, groans, sorrows and  agonies, carried to terrestrial plain.
earth Mourns, while angels welcomes one divinely ordained.  
though born in Adam's filth, 
But by grace transformed and through the cross escaped.
weepers, Your sorrows are but Joys en-masked
The  seed is counted among the saints 
Their maker  bids their fears begone,
look through the vista of future Years,
 Would you meet your seed  again? 
Then go in through the Door  (John 10;9).
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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