Consider the lily
of the moon.
Consider how
its spinning
does not toil.
Consider the lily-
shaped flames of hell
where the wretched
walk through water
on Christ's back:
His face a lily
white with flame,
His tongue an
inferno for our
wrong words,
His eyes afire
for our cured souls,
His Body our kind
Host of comfort.
Re: Deemed
February 2nd, 2007 by Mary Harwell Sayler 
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