Released

ladysslipperbabysteps.jpg

Released from the tomb, from the Winter which froze you,

Freed from the Dark, from the fears which enclosed you,

Raised from the earth, from the cells that opposed you,

Green with the gleam of creation;

Vanquish this shell, this mere skin that confined you,

Stretch past the trials that sought to unbind you,

Run to your Saviour, whose heart bled to find you,

Fly toward heaven’s ovation.

My heart aches tonight, but I know that you are in the Presence of perfect Love at last, and that I cannot begrudge you, my sweet friend…

In memory of Marcy Payne

 

 

 

 

Sleeping Beauty

baby iris

 

Long has she lain,

poisoned by an apple

that should never have reached Eden.

The kiss, when it comes,

stirs,

wispy, a dream that eludes

upon rising;

it revives the tender recollection

that she waits,

not for an awakening,

but for a

Resurrection.