December 21, 2008
The rain taps gently on the earth
That aches relentlessly sore;
For the child that by miracle birth
Whispers from the ocean shore;
Opening her tender palm,
She invites the dreary rain--
Churning softly to porcelain balm
From the streams of crying pain;
Her fingers curl the wet soil,
As she raises her palms high,
Drowning taunts that death broil,
As she opens up the sky;
Light flashes sharp upon
The perishing world’s plea,
Releasing a glimpse of dawn,
For the miracle by the sea.

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artofthedeath said...
Jan. 2, 2009 at 1:26 am
This is the one I already read! Nice. Beautiful. Need I say more?
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