I had intended to enter a belated Thanksgiving blog, but My Blessed Friend asked me to enter this poem, a prayer, that I wrote to Him several years ago. He is our Truth and our Light. Hear how He prevails.
Sing, good Truth, Your ancient song;
Fashion stunning weapons to obliterate wrong;
Transform the weak to prevail over the strong;
Chase memories down corridors where they do not belong.
Shine Light, dear Truth; open eyes of the blind;
Tear up masks that the mind
Meticulously painted to hide behind;
Unveil the faces that you find.
Truth, steal kisses within the breast
Where dread and beauty spar and rest.
Shatter holes in images, putting dreams to savage test;
Create a blinding paradox to drive the soul into a quest.
Truth, whisper honesty at an