we
the angels
are arrows of love
so sharp and piercing
which god hurls
we rise
and

bare our
eager chests
hearts leaping
while some
fall

if i
were
a lowly leper
would god still
grasp my hands
in His my crumpling
stubs carress

if
someone
held your hand
last night unto
the rising dawn
it was not mine
you gripped so
tight but His

on earth
as in
hevn