The quivering age rings of doubt;
The fuzzy aura of social norm;
Of grandmother’s fables
On how good comes;
Of past hurts and yearnings
Wrenching head and heart
Periodically upward.
Now collect and condense into
A single point of certainty
And gladsome focus.
Christ has come.
Christ has served,
And brought the good report.
Blood and death have served their purpose.
His Father…Our Father.
Is love.
Entirely to be trusted.
And oh, how the good comes!



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