So It Is Written
Every day, every moment
closer to you
in woven cloth robe
and calceus shoe
to find that voice
rising clear
in airy peaked skies
this best trek lies
no finer choice
Tear down the walls
kept from heaven's door
no hurt anymore
a still voice calls
Your will, mine
your cup, my cup
I rise, you lift up
to reach the divine
Ox and lion and babe
smitten
in innocence lay
each to pray
so it is written.
~~~~~~Memoria ad lucem in vita, Grace Dell 'Nichelle' Nichols December 28, 1932 – July 30, 2022 ~~~~~
Copyright © Quoth Theraven | Year Posted 2022
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