Tuesday, November 18, 2025

A New Poem Draft

 Holy

the womb
and the tomb
is holy

and holy
the battle-field
of sorrow

the one alone
on the throne
is holy

and holy
rising sun
in the morrow

our deepest fear
drawing near
is holy

and holy
is the hope
beyond merit

the church-light
at midnight
is holy

and holy
the heaven
we inherit