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Yours O Lord is cradle never Too small for receiving the word Itself becoming f lesh Yours O Lord are the loving arms Too ample for so tender still A heart as Mary’s Yours O Lord are only riches That never need fear the least dearth Of a shepherd’s gift Yours O Lord are but riches that Lie not within the pale of most Royal three wise men Yours O Lord is that one truth which Is fenced in by the muted lips Of a blinded heart Yours O Lord are but leftovers And crumbs of self-deluding deeds Of me you can beg Else only naught can I offer You beggar of God —Gabriel Vahanian G. Vahanian, Theopoetics of the Word © Gabriel Vahanian 2014
Published: Nov 1, 2015
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