The Call (She Atones, From Every Street Corner)

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The Call (She Atones, From Every Street Corner)




To pull
To push
Her contours are not obtuse,
In accents of the divine
Accidents that happen
Have possibilities sublime.

The chance that is chanced,
Divinity versus circumstance,
She sways in the very way that she flits
Between shadows and lightning,
A heartbeat that I might miss.

You cannot dismiss
The mystery of
This truest young miss,
With the scent of blooming blossoms
Betraying her every trail,
A tiara of effervescence
Springs yon handcuffed fancy
From any and every jail

To twist
A heart so clean and pure
Is nigh impossible,
She’s neat, pristine, demure,
And her call goes out to many
But by many more is missed,
A siren at the seashore and
A loving mother in the mist


To push and pull,
The dregs and swill
Come running when the night grows dim,
And light is cast on hearts from Him,
As Wisdom’s call reaches the innermost parts

The push,
The pull,
The fanning of the spark

She rests not until her heart is known;
To turn mankind, with Love to atone.



September 7th, 2010