She reached out her hands
And opened the sky
Not caring who saw,
Not considering why.
Her wings gently lifted
And love bade her go
Go out to the world,
So the world could know
That chains could be broken,
And tears wiped away,
And those in the darkness
Will find light of day.
"Tell them," said Love
"All that I've taught,
And all that you've learned
In the battles you fought.
Tell them that Love
Died on the tree
Tell them I suffered,
For that love was me."
"But Love," said the winged one
"What can I give?
I'm still learning much
In this life that I live.
I'm not wizened and old
With tales to relate,
There's much more to teach me,
So why don't I wait?"
Love chuckled softly
And shook his crowned head,
Made the winged one blush
With what next he said:
"Sure, there's more to learn,
But is it not enough
To be armed with the knowledge
Of the depth of my love?
You know that and more,
That can't be denied.
I've called you, my child,
So you're qualified.
I've made your voice strong,
Your convictions the same.
So go out to the world
And give hope a name."
"But, Love," stammered she,
"What if I fall?
What if I can't even
Reach them at all?
I've so little to give,
And so much to lose."
So Love shrugged his shoulders
Asking, "What do you choose?"
The winged one saw then
The nail scars and tears
And the love in His eyes
Allayed all her fears.
"Love," said she then,
"Forget what I said,
I've already chosen-
To the old me I'm dead."
Love smiled then
His face all aglow.
"I know your heart,
That's why I said 'Go.'
Don't be afraid
I'll be by your side.
So pack your bags, kid,
Let's go for a ride."
postscript
Time for another poem. I wrote this one quite recently after listening to Joyce Meyer on the radio. It shows the usual conversation I have with God about who I am and what I'm supposed to be. I honestly think God was using my pen to tell me what He wanted me to know. Because I looked at the poem when I was done, and thought, "Surely I didn't just write that!" God uses my pen to teach me amazing things. I hope you enjoy.