It shall happen as God has chose


It shall happen as God has chose
That I find him better, not in
The day when my sun was growing up
My garden is filled without soil
my hands can prepare no food

I find him, when my robes is
Without warmth
My feet, without sole
My heart without hope

I wept and wept
For my river has been rough
My love has been for the dust
My grief has been no trust

I see, true beauty is the
Ornament of this world
Collapsing, fold by fold
Perfect on her queenship throne
In the second world

I see men is the victory
Of a communion in the altar
No happiness can flame off

Alas! I held my breast
For me, my forever was a
Grain of salt


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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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