Beside the attentive eye
and clear ear of mother heron
this sacrificed infant
divides three ways, into
blood and smoke and soul.
Don’t ask why. Or even how.
The earth’s hidden caves,
percolated stone, keep
leaching away her minerals
so stalactites feed
stalagmites — their marriage
a beauty to behold. Truth:
this majestic column born
of sacrifice freely given.
Posted by: Lisa | April 22, 2016
The Sacrifice
Posted in Poetry, Spiritual Life
What are your thoughts?