His hands

His hands

A Poem by Courtney


His hands cradle the pure white dove
He whispers to it his love
"I am your maker, your creator.'' he began
But so abruptly the dove jumped up and flew
Leaving him
Deserting him
When he did was tell the pure and gentle dove the details of his love
His hands cradle the pure white dove
He whispers to it his love
''I am your maker, your creator'' he began
The dove sat and listen
And pondered at the bliss that seeped through its mind
Assuring that it was not alone
That one day it would see the thrown
Of the one who shed his blood
Who would never toss us in the mud
The pure and gentle dove the one who accepted his love
The one who listened is a now called a Christan

© 2013 Courtney

Author's Note

The first half is the dove represents the people who turned away from Gods love, and resent him. Leave a review if you can. :)

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I like this, it's a parable of choice and relationship with the cosmos, to have faith or not, to accept the one or to prefer separation, to choose the light or dark, is it that easy?

Posted 7 Years Ago

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Good job!

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


7 Years Ago

Thank you!

7 Years Ago

Your welcome :)

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2 Reviews
Added on January 2, 2013
Last Updated on January 2, 2013



Seymour, IN

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