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  • Writer's pictureFrank Vurraro


Part I

I raised my hand before the sun,

obscuring its glorious light,

my perspective skewed by

the nearness of my flesh.

I dwell now thus, amid the thorns

of life, in my chair of pain,

blocking out the light again.

I raise now the thorns which

accentuate my darkened plight.

This seems no fitting end for

one who truly trusts the light.


Part II

Then raised the One who rent

the veil of flesh, who took

the thorns of life for all

in darkness dressed…

I now lay down my hand,

nearness of my flesh.

Its thorns which seem e’er

so small. None left to

veil His glory and His grace.

My perspective now

Through eye of spirit,

Not of nature’s face.

I see the Son, begotten

One, in His exalted place.


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