Uncondemned

The woman you accuse
Has not lived here for some time,
She died upon a cross
Against her will and yet for mine -
Now what remains here in her place
Is nothing less than my son's face
And I do not recall her past mistakes.


This woman's not condemned
To pay the price for Eve again,
The birthing pains alone
As consequence have been enough -
For now the life that breathes in her
Is so much more than she deserved
According to my gift of grace and love.

Tares

In setting up arguments
I am convincing,
Adept at replacing
Your truth with my own
Exalting my version
Of rational knowledge
From tares among seeds
That were long ago sown.

Serenade

 The clouds continue their march to the sun
Along the horizon line blue,
The mockingbird tries to serenade them,
But I know he's speaking for You.

The wind both obscures and reveals as it moves
The rushes in back and forth sways,
The sun sheds it light and its warmth from above,
Preparing to yield up the day.