A pariah bound to wander the earth
She crosses the great divide
She ascends the holy mountain.
Forsaken in the Land of the Living
A stranger to all but sorrows,
She received not the promise then.
She approaches the gates
Of that high city adorned in gems
The Gardener bids her pass.
.
She greets the watchmen
Who never cease in their resolve.
They enclose about her with their embraces.
Retrieved across a wide expanse
It was not she, but He that sought her out.
He brought her to His hallowed hill.
Sunshine drifts through the trees
The scent of roses linger on the breeze.
The Garden is prepared for forthcoming nuptials.
I turn and see Him there.
While I am presently speaking, He hears.
He answers before I call out to Him.
I was that foreigner most Desolate
But here I am His delight
And It was this world for which I was made.
Here I am at rest. Here I am home.
About the Creator
LJ Pollard
As long as I can remember, I've been writing and sharing stories. Writing and storytelling, whether it be a humorous poem composed in five minutes, or an epic fantasy told over several novels, brings meaning and joy to life.
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