Friday, July 27, 2012

Ode to a Gosling

The tenderness with which these arms enfold
a baby goose, adopted by a stranger
gives us a taste of Your love, which must hold
each heart protected, safe from mortal danger.

The troubles that befall us when we're young
and form all our behaviors as we grow,
need not become a cage, but perhaps a rung
upon a ladder, or seeds that You sow

to bring us to fruition, given time,
and grace, and conscious rumination;
a structure, not restrictive, but sublime
through which each one can reach life's culmination.

Rage not against the chains which keep us bound
but see them as the loss which leads to found.

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