Your speech, your song,
winds words breathed with arctic
breath that burns like tropic sun.You have convicted me with the lies
I tell others and acquitted me in my
sin, freely without costbut at such great cost I cannot
bear it--freely as water in a well
costly as a fragrant oil orfrankincense purging all
impurity left behind and asking
God to hear us alland bate that winter's breath
that arctic tropic sun that burns
with such cold beamO my seigneur
© 2003 Steven Riddle
Unusual Untitled
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About this Entry
This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on March 12, 2003 7:59 AM.
More Poetry--Can You Imagine? was the previous entry in this blog.
Poetic Offering is the next entry in this blog.
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