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MYTHS ARE HOPES REFRACTED THROUGH OUR PAIN

Myths are hopes refracted through our pain:
Each ray of justice bends into a bow
Resplendent, pure, symmetrical and sane,
Resolving into grace the world we know.
Yes, God walked among us out of love;
Christ suffered horribly that we might live;
His holy spirit watches, as a dove
Remains aloft, to witness and forgive.
In love the earth returns a special fire:
Sapphires linger in disheveled grass;
The snow burns eagerly; the blood runs higher;
Mountains melt into astonished brass.
All who love revere this sacred art,
Stunned and weeping at joy's battered heart.