It Could Have Been an Angel

frost overhead

It could have been an angel,

whose  rustle I just heard –

it could have been the breath of God

advancing Living Word;

it could have been a baby’s cry

with virgin-breath its kin;

it could have been my heart’s rebirth,

as Saviour entered inn.

Johnny, Don’t Give Up Just Yet

Johnny, don’t give up just yet

Though the ground is white with snow,

Though your toes get cold and wet

With all that’s going on below.

Heaven gifted you with joy

To share with those who tread this earth

so Johnny, blessed angel boy,

flash your smile for all you’re worth!

Angel Halo

Such fragile construction,

this whisper-thin membrane

between you and the Light.

Nothing robust here.

You cannot boast of a strength of your own making.

Ethereal,

your veins revealing the life-pulse beating in their wispy confines,

you boldly invite Sun into your membranes.

It captures your whole, and,

radiating within,

above,

beneath,

weaving a texture through your substance,

baptizes you with

angel halo…

“My power is all you need.  My power works best in weakness.”  II Corinthians 12:9 NLT