The Apocalypse--A Revelation ... Chapter Three
The Apocalypse--A Revelation ... Chapter Three
https://allpoetry.com/story/13500808-The-Apocalypse--A-Revelation-...-Chapter-Two-by-Lucretia-Mccloud
Sabrina lay still on her tattered thick quilt
gazing through a sheered window
paned
as her heart
sweetly
it melts
before beauty sublime
serene
dealt, bequeathed
undeserved
mankind:
Every new moon rising
brilliant or partially illumed
spotlights
my inner room
graced among stars
glorious each,
though distant
emotionally
within reach,
even as some,
invisible felt
that far,
slowly chases fleeting suns
spinning hope daily
constant
steady
begun
as orchids and roses
lilies or tulips
prosper and bloom
in soil tended,
watered,
leaves lovingly pruned.
She hears her mother
preparing for work
her ritual rigid
not varied; routine
although lately
slower, more deliberate
without valuable steam.
In troubled darkness
from deep mourning
in sadness
she lurks.
Now begins Sabrina
to sympathize
feel
bonded
connected
to a blood
once foreign,
this sensation unreal
as in recent past
she just considered her mom
this 'lass'
rather cruel,
yes 'mean'
in the motherly field.
However,
words just yesterday heard
touches her
in a way different,
yet not utterly absurd
helps Sabrina
with her
to now tenderly
deal:
"He heals the brokenhearted;
He binds up their wounds.
He counts the number of the stars;
He calls all of them by name.
Our Lord is great and is mighty in power;
His understanding is beyond measure."*
Thinks Sabrina:
She too is weak, broken.
In this we're the same...
I must put away my selfishness.
Help her
dignity and life dear
to maintain.... As off to sleep she goes.
Tomorrow,
a new beginning
love lost to regain,
although,
unbeknownst to her
on campus
there
will be a start to a different
though dangerous
personal game. . . TO BE CONT'D
Sabrina lay still on her tattered thick quilt
gazing through a sheered window
paned
as her heart
sweetly
it melts
before beauty sublime
serene
dealt, bequeathed
undeserved
mankind:
Every new moon rising
brilliant or partially illumed
spotlights
my inner room
graced among stars
glorious each,
though distant
emotionally
within reach,
even as some,
invisible felt
that far,
slowly chases fleeting suns
spinning hope daily
constant
steady
begun
as orchids and roses
lilies or tulips
prosper and bloom
in soil tended,
watered,
leaves lovingly pruned.
She hears her mother
preparing for work
her ritual rigid
not varied; routine
although lately
slower, more deliberate
without valuable steam.
In troubled darkness
from deep mourning
in sadness
she lurks.
Now begins Sabrina
to sympathize
feel
bonded
connected
to a blood
once foreign,
this sensation unreal
as in recent past
she just considered her mom
this 'lass'
rather cruel,
yes 'mean'
in the motherly field.
However,
words just yesterday heard
touches her
in a way different,
yet not utterly absurd
helps Sabrina
with her
to now tenderly
deal:
"He heals the brokenhearted;
He binds up their wounds.
He counts the number of the stars;
He calls all of them by name.
Our Lord is great and is mighty in power;
His understanding is beyond measure."*
Thinks Sabrina:
She too is weak, broken.
In this we're the same...
I must put away my selfishness.
Help her
dignity and life dear
to maintain.... As off to sleep she goes.
Tomorrow,
a new beginning
love lost to regain,
although,
unbeknownst to her
on campus
there
will be a start to a different
though dangerous
personal game. . . TO BE CONT'D
Psalm 147:3-5
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