That promised quenched peace
Once my heart lush green, fresh from sky and earth,
time soon turned a fiery red, flush with hot-blooded desire.
A constant thwarting chilled its ardor, withered it
yellow,
a timid fellow burrowing deeper into my chest
where bound in icy veins, it turned a dark bruised blue.
Today before its inevitable ceasing altogether
it beats a weathered gray, slow in its movements,
shedding its tears and quietly turning hoary white.
Perhaps true love will some lifetime hence,
as faith requires, fetch it up clear and colorless,
as incorporeal as the mystery that inhabits it
since first it arose beating, lonely and dim
to endure the mortal assaults of ignorance and illusion;
plucked from its checkered, colorful path to rest
eternally onward in that promised
quenched peace beyond its fleshly ken.
O child of God, what florid poetry you use
to recount the brutal facts and pray for redemption.
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