Homeless when it comes to home,
These eyes avert the gaze of love,
And love Divine, seemed n'er mine,
Vagabond below skies, fair and foul,
And soulless flesh, fit for the loam.
Stone.
A candle behind glass, and a voice.
These eyes angling up in their orbs,
The warmth within, to this has-been,
Like warm bread to hungry senses,
Remembering the power of choice.
Wood.
Soft hand extends with a beckoning,
These eyes squint the welcome lustre,
Surprising trust, as this soul adjusts,
Welcomed before the crackling hearth,
Tender a new love's strange leavening.
Glass.
Safe arms support this wobbly frame,
These eyes blinking in watery focus,
Clownish steps, charity does perplex,
What is this frightful positive regard,
And this sweet calling of my name?
Clay.
Day unto day of love's sweet melody,
These eyes kindled like a nascent star,
Gazing at the face, of one Renita Grace,
Forlorn no more, in the house of love,
Two metamorph in love's hot alchemy.
Flesh.
