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Poetry

06/08/2016

(M. Weber photo)

 

Glow

Does the orange blood from the dying sun
still flow smoothly through my aging heart,
and does Christ’s warm look of love still run
through my thin veins and my deepest parts?

Is this blest world worth living in still
or have we crossed the final abyss
where gold, fame and power lead to ill
and our politics with soul amiss?

Give me the bright light over this world.
Give me the hot fire deep in my heart.
Give me the cleared path through the world.
Give me love for all the fallen parts.

Make me into a wick, light your flame.
Make me burn across this lovely land.
May the shining way for all be claimed.
May this beautiful world glow again.

By Michael Dallaire