In the warmth of the glowing stone
Three faces of divinity do I see
A sense of wonder and glory
A new beginning the one true birth
Child’s blood on the door overhead and sides
Our intercessory to the holy of holies
I walk the nature stone steps
The sunrise of blue and white
I can feel your immense sorrow
The clinking of beads together
But do they really need me you wonder
Twice a week in the box
Speak ten of these and five more of those
Some twice a year visit
My time of course does not exist
For everything is possible you see
On there last moments of breathe
Some come to unto me
A life fully lived with no thought of me
Still yet they come unto me
Is it remorse, guilt or repentance
That on their behalf I should be
On the flight of angles wings
My faith complete and sound
I am the past, the present and the future
Blessed be me
Two thousand years time more
Will they still come
Beads in their hands
What if I said no
Ended his ultimate plan for me
What would be different if it were not so
Just a humble hammer and lowly nails
No more, no less
Merely as everyone else
My lovers trance never broke
When I told my story true
This my lover did not deny
The wonder of will and plan
My lover stood at such a lowly place
To fulfill, to deliver, to save us all
Thy child did not deny us
That much is true
Why doth thou wait to come to me
Keeping me in stone’s cold embrace
I am mystery
The bride that awaits my scene
You know the story true
You seek me in the mysteries
I await thee daily to meet
But wait no more I must
I spoke once before
May 1917
Cova da Iria
Children three were there
Lucia, Jacinata and Francisco
Six times came I
The thirteenth day each one
They heard me speak
Of compassion and humanity
Of the need for hope in Calcutta
If I came to thee
These nearly hundred years later
Wouldst thou listen once more
Or hide behind they clinking beads
Blessed am I
Amongst all women
This was for a Creative writing class that was to be in metaphor. Hope you enjoy it!
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