The words of this poem formed inside my brane last night as i awoke at midnight from sleep and i thought you may enjoy or get something from it?
With apologies to Robbie Burns…
My luve is like a red, red rose
That in a central courtyard grows.
Surrounded by four walls of stone,
The hands that built those walls, my own.
Protected from the bitter wind
Of other luve’s of those who’ve sinned.
Yet still more deadly is the sin
Formed from my fear that blows within.
Stretching out up to the azure skies
To reach for freedom that up there lies.
My luve, that be planted within the ground,
Desires not the walls in which it’s found.
But instead doth search for the wide-open space
That’s Illumined with the Light of Grace.
And lest it, over-reaching, would die
Perhaps with a roof i’ll block the sky.
As i kept my luve thus safe inside,
With all my fearful care – it died.
love, Nov 2008