Another of my surf-by sonnets.
God’s Bitter Angel Answers
You who rose from dust to life, breath of God
in skin-prison bottled, do you question
His supreme plan? Does your veneration
fall so short of glory, that you would nod
your head and pray mere words? Would He be God
could He not answer? Yet your hymn’s less sung
in worship than in dark desperation—
dissonant in choral dread of the Rod.
Is He not Love? Does Love punish only?
Take heart, little wren, grasp faith in your heart
and know that Love is you, that you are love—
His breath and heartbeat are yours; these lonely
hours are but reflection upon His Art
as it grows within each, to bless thereof!