From Galilee

Her cold hands wrapped me
All her being within my soul
I fall, yes falling deep
Into the thick gloom of cavern’s bowl

The refracted images vivid and clear
A lone pose in the big picture
Me, salt and weed but air
Caught in between slowly, my death is sure

His warm hands grabbed me
A fragile floating flower, your arms strong
I remember, “I’ll be what I’ll be”
Your praise my lips will incessantly prolong

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