(Tribute to the Persecuted Bride)

 

She bleeds you know,

And weeps

In darkened prison cells

She sits out the allotted hours

Of mens’ hatred

She runs,

Fearing the knock on the door

The torching of the house

The cries of the children

 

 

She hides,

Homeless

Through long lonely nights

When doubt nibbles at her soul

Like a devouring demon taking its fill

Before the light comes

She waits out the sorrow

Watching for the dawn

 Of joy’s tomorrow

 

 

She shines

Unknowingly radiant

Fair as the moon, clear as the sun

Rising from the memories of her pain

Ascending, free from the clutches of a phantom death

That only ever dreamed of holding her

Leaning, swooning, gazing on the Beloved

Who  ever watches, ever keeps

And ever encompasses this bleeding,

Beautiful wife

 

 

There are those who say

It cannot be

That she

Will stay to face such things

Fools and blind are they

Who believe

That He Who bled and wept and grieved

Would  deny her the sweetness of His kiss

Within this fellowship of sufferings

© Cheryl McGrath

 https://breadforthebride.wordpress.com