To: Love

Love,
Why dost thou shine on the Earth?
What standard comes to give repose?
Endure, dear poet, speak thy heart
Spark the art of strife's remark

Behold, tomorrow they shall wear another face.

We came as they who came before
Not to adore
Not to worship, nor
To soar
.
.
.
To save
The Kings and Queens of Earth's domain
Whom write their trials wrought with pain
.
This pauper poet... rags adorn
Who never knew why he was born
Fathoms not how clay could scorn
A thing of love, so heaven-borne

Alas, dear friend, they burned us too.
They fed us to the Lions too.
They crucified and mocked us too.
And now they do the same to you.

BEHOLD, it's done, the Ass has spoken
Alas, your light is never broken
And though these vessels mock your token
Verily, some have now awoken.

The owner of the sphere is here
So hear: a fire burns within this steer
No mortal mocks his righteous fear

For these of clay who mock my Sun
Too soon I Scorch their DUST and fun.

Amen, may the grace of the True living God bless you and your family. I love each and every one of you, no matter how close or far we may be.