Respect (Rev. 3:20)
A POEM
Gentle Lord, I love You.
You tiptoe ‘cross my heart.
You sit beside me quietly and wait.
For years I lost track of You,
But in some quiet hours
I heard Your gentle tiptoe at my gate.
And even when I opened
The gate to let You in
You tiptoed in with absolute respect
Hoping not to scare me
Or make me see too soon
The wondrous, awesome grandeur of my Guest.
How do I know You love me?
It is the quiet peace,
The patient way that You will work with me —
A Sovereign Who tiptoes
And treats with full respect
The one who could be simply property.
You May Also Enjoy
Processional (upon seeing Dürer’s woodcut of Roswitha)
By Dürer’s hand, I saw her kneeling down
Before the Emperor: Roswitha — she
Who…
The Soaring Birds of Freedom
The soaring birds of freedom
Fall to the earth in yellow streams of fire,
Igniting…