I don’t
know these words
what
they mean
what
they say
I
don’t know these words
or
this man Isaiah
who
is this who died
killed,
and no one can speak
of
his descendants
can
he have any
was
he a eunuch like me
the
man appeared
explained
these words
descendants
by water
he
left the gift in my hand
this
gift of words, the Word.
I
asked the question,
who
is this for, this gift?
The
wind answered back
with
my echo.
Photograph by George Hodan via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
I really love these poems that spring forth as you reflect on scripture, Glynn. Thank you.
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