Conversangelic

The Deed is Done,
he said in a withered voice,
the sound is as if two crooked hands
were slapped together
more a thap than a clap.
What was i expecting?
a voice like a trumpet
What power, what might!
They might say...
I can see you are not pleased,
that you are not pleased at all
with me.
If you had a heart you might feel at least
something of their pain,
something of their grief and sorrow,
something of the trials of their tomorrow.
But the ice and cold they cannot bear.
Looking with eyes of the soul which see
without regard to distance or obstruction,
the winged one with the bag
dripping wishes like tiny argent crystals
met the gaze of the wondering souls
newly separated from their physical form.
You laugh for naught, knave of hell,
My Father will receive many of those.
Yes, many...but not all, the sibilant hissing responds.
Come face to face with Grace
we finally see it was never about right or wrong.

March 1995