The Branch

The Branch



Dear Dove,

I see the branch in Your beak

soaring over restless waves

darting from the thunder

this world strikes You with



Dear Dove,

You come across the ship,

full of the worthy

few



Dear Dove,

Your soul stretches across the sky

The branch,

an outstretched hand



Dear Dove,

White wings

a sign of liberty

give us our daily bread

let us drink from Your glass.



Dear Dove,

You dropped

a crown of thorns



Dear Dove,

What do we do?

For You so loved

us, You gave Your soul

Your one and only soul.




Dear Dove,

    I caught Your blood red heart

    Not broken

    You are not beaten or bruised



Dear Dove,

    Your spirit rises

    You model grace

    and truth

    the branch

    we hold onto.


This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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