Hurrying Home, Poem by john o'connell
Hurrying Home,
hurrying home,
happy and naieve
as a child of seven
sometimes is -
Your thunderbolt
suddenly struck
my mind, my heart
and my soul.
deep Your shafts
pierced my whole being,
deeper than deep,
and much more horrifying
than I ever imagined
to be humanly possible.
What Your cross was
and what mine now is!
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5/20/2024 3:35:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
