The Branch
The Branch
Dear Dove,
I see the branch in Your beak
soaring over restless waves
darting from the thunder
this world strikes You with
Dear Dove,
You come across the ship,
full of the worthy
few
Dear Dove,
Your soul stretches across the sky
The branch,
an outstretched hand
Dear Dove,
White wings
a sign of liberty
give us our daily bread
let us drink from Your glass.
Dear Dove,
You dropped
a crown of thorns
Dear Dove,
What do we do?
For You so loved
us, You gave Your soul
Your one and only soul.
Dear Dove,
I caught Your blood red heart
Not broken
You are not beaten or bruised
Dear Dove,
Your spirit rises
You model grace
and truth
the branch
we hold onto.