Small
Mercies.
Stultified then magnified,
Coloured black and white,
Eclipsed by feelings deep inside,
Then studded with starlight.
Places where perception,
Irrupts and elongates,
A capital connection,
My heart now celebrates.
Small mercies are the measure,
Sometimes they flow like gold,
Patience is a treasure,
Or so I have been told.
Mystery like history,
Moves and promulgates,
Fast forward to the liberty,
Opens the floodgates.
Far on high in the sky,
A tiny bird heads home,
and where'er she should fly,
Or places she did roam.
The air is soft and sanguine,
A pink blush in the air,
With a tint and glint of tangerine,
A swift and silent prayer.
I pray that we may coalesce,
Unite and integrate,
Fabrics made of faithfulness,
Where we assimilate.
Small mercies are the measure,
The mix amalgamates,
At the rainbow end the treasure,
In the way that we relate.
©
David Rudder
2023
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