A Sonnet: Injured Souls’ Encore

Matthew Rivera
Aug 23, 2017 · 1 min read

The soul, our divine gardener tending,

Its fragile roots watered to soothe and balm,

Sublime! the soul’s stem and petal mending,

Divine providence us to gently calm.

Loved by God, the soul loses to the mind,

Which filters the Sun in shades most somber;

While God casting distant, aloof, unkind,

Impatiently the soul to encumber.

Scripture says injury God does allow:

Paradox! Love’s Light inflicting such pain.

Beset with woe, actors perform their show

On earth’s stage: rot, loss, betrayal their strain.

Puppets we are not in this grandest play

God’s love forever to own and display.

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