Poetry

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I once wore a heart shaped locket
Weaved with threads of gold
In it were stored my memories
Pictures of loved ones
And the pain and grief I hold
I put it away
And put on a gold cross
And went to a church

There are some within this place
Who also have heart lockets
Weaved with threads of gold
Yet there are others who fail to see
That those outside
Tend to view God and the church
As though they are one
Sometimes they go there looking for Him
Or to know Him better
But they often do not stay

These others
They too have heart shaped lockets
Yet theirs open with nothing inside
Dross, corrupted silver at best
These pump the blood in their bodies
And produce the venom that fuels their tongues
What is unjust they try to justify
Rather than repent
They don't comprehend what they stand to lose
Nor care who it is they hurt
So long as each may carry on
With their own personal deception
While lambs weep among the wolves
Wouldn't it be nice
If their hearts would change to gold

Ruth (Bearchell) Dato
May 22, 2006

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