Wednesday, August 14, 2013


Love's close cords in cobweb cling
throughout my very world,
sheer-shimmering, they spread their threads
to clothe my shivering soul

They weave the shawl which sheathes my fear
and warms my shuddering heart
and bids me still, to know again
love will not leave me hurt.

This cloth which wraps reality
in fulsome folds of warmth,
transforms the world eternally
and keeps me safe and sure.

This flimsy guard against the world,
this cloak of fragile weave
can seem mere wisp of nothingness;
its strength so barely seen.

The power of love, this shielding sheet
intangible may seem and yet it proves
impregnable, holds fast
and will not yield.

This gossamer which gowns me round
and decorates my days,
comes from within and from without
and from Soul's very grace.

It's strength is greatest when I stretch
and take the ethereal threads,
to knit a garment glorious;
God's armour unto death.

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