Monday, December 22, 2008

Den of Robbers

The clouds will scatter,
Yet the rain will fall.
"A known mystery will drive it all,"
I proclaim in praise.

Yet,
When I question what the skies can see
Because grace showers on my enemy,
All these words I've spoken
Return to me in silence
To remind me
Of the eucharistic promises I've enacted
And then broken.