A poem is meant to be heard.

You will want to rotate your phone.

Sacred Scribbles

A Poem, Psalm 45 In Real Life

You entered the sacred spaces of my heart
And made your drawings upon the wall

Carved deep within my being
Mere scribbles to you…A way to pass the time?
But oh so sacred to me

The now hollow corridors
With a dreary echo of silence
Yearn to be filled once again.

THE NEXT DAY…

Ah, but it is such a lie
For the corridors are FILLED
Abundance upon Abundance
Is mine

For I am the BRIDE
And my Bridegroom…
Delights in my beauty

The music of strings and everything lovely
Makes our hearts soar together
In perfect ecstasy

Within the corridors of ivory
We dance our perfect dance

Surrounded by loved ones…
Our family

And as our love
Expands into eternity
The Crescendo…The Crescendo…
Ah…The Crescendo!

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