Blood red on gold.
Crisp white
Joined with cherry-red
Precious drops
Glistening
Like rubies
On crowns of thorns.
Are you there?
Will you take me in?
Ivory pale
Deadly gaunt
Twisted, contorted
Forgiving
As the night
After the crucifixion
Ages ago.
Is it you?
Will you take me in?
Opalescent
Pearly silver
Silvery-blue
Crystal tears
Sliding down the cheeks
Like rain
On shrouds.
Was it you calling?
Will you take me in?
Roses
Blooming in lead and glass
Coloring the dust
In vibrance
Of life
Heavenly
Unknown to men.
Was it your voice?
Will you take me in?
Frankincense mist
Spiraling
Before my eyes
Cathedrals
Rising through
The ashes
Of neglect and pain.
Was it your will?
Will you take me in?
Here I am.
Broken.
A shell of the soul
Irrevocably lost.
Wandering
Through the graveyards
Of forgotten verse.
Will you ever teach me
To believe without doubt?
Will you take me in?…
The reward for being vulnerable enough to ask, has often been a reminder that I never needed to.