We are strung between heaven and earth,
taut with tension.
The Spirit plays a soul symphony
on the stretched gut of surrendered lives – sweet
sounds that echo down eternal halls stirring
seeds to sprout and
warriors to war.

The bride-bright in her festal robe reaches for the latch;
boots squeak and hearts hum as
Heaven mirrors the
melody of making and undoing.

As mortal strains swell to victory
and celebrate, with resounding crash,
we stand breathless to salute –
and over the sudden silence wafts
an angel lullaby to beckon
weary hearts home.

Hear me read this poem HERE

More Poems here

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