First Impression

You burn fire red

Against these dire threats

And yet

And yet

You remember to dim the lights

Before the fire gets too bright

To revel in the glory of what’s left

Tap in

Tap in to the grace

The grace of righteousness

But sometimes it’s like clinging to a ledge

Halfway up a waterfall somewhere in a jungle in South America

Marveling at the beauty of the fern frosted by the mist

Of the torrent

Crashing by, terrifyingly

But the sun shines through

Through the eyes of the children in your mind

With the curls of the flame

On the sword of justice

And you pull yourself up

And you pull yourself clear

Worn down and worn through

All cares disappear

You’re there

 

David Trudel © 2012

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