True Love

October 3, 2007
A world so new,
so fresh, how calm?
She’s cold, asleep,
pure in His palm.

She rests there nestled,
naked and static.
Awake with a jolt,
He’s such a dramatic.

With a crash and a flash,
down pour the seas,
flooding the floors,
chilling the breeze.

She gasps for life,
inhale long and deep.
From her sigh grow His children
innocent, faithful sheep.

Life has come,
slow but true.
Her beauty grows,
something new.

But too many days
the sun scorches her back.
Worn and weathered,
barren, cracked.

Where once roared a river,
now lies a mess.
She’s battered and scathed,
she yields to distress.

And soon the sheep wander,
wool pulled from their eyes.
They flee from the shepherd,
shirking His wise.

Amongst all the sorrow,
He weeps for His dearest.
Faint showers wash through,
her pain still the clearest.

Dark clouds drift away,
black curtain drawn in.
Down stretches an arm,
compassion within.

The beauty profound,
He caresses His love,
life sprouts anew,
a true gift from above.

At once all can see
her fierce blessed grace.
A jewel to adore,
the soul mates embrace.

It’s obvious now
He was there all the while,
working with care,
His affection hostile.

Her colors dance proudly
on the Canyon face
like a fire ablaze.
No water, no trace.

A sprinkle of green
springs up from His touch.
a sigh of relief,
again pride in her clutch.

As in all made by Him,
splendor’s to be found.
Have faith little sheep,
His gifts shall abound.

Change may come,
but all is well.
She shows Him to us,
until we bid her farewell.

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