Transitioning Into Love
I am a child of the Master’s thought;
a whisper; becoming a shout;
a rebellious toddler; from infant, brought;
a love; begging to come out.
I began as a seed in the Master’s mind;
planted in his garden above;
I was most meticulously designed;
for I was the seed of love.
I grew to become a child of frustration;
a rebel; devoid of all purpose;
I slowly survived a season of gestation;
to enlist in the Master’s service.
I was a weed; growing in the flowers;
naked; without any clothes;
useless; devoid of purpose or powers;
the thorn upon the rose.
I was a journeyman, without destination;
a rebellious child of wrath;
I was the Master’s child of frustration;
a rebel; on the warpath.
My destination was an endless night;
anger and hate; my bed;
suddenly; I was exposed to the light;
seeing God’s love, instead.
I found that I was looking in a mirror;
fashioned in the heavens above;
what I thought hate; I saw was fear;
I was only transitioning into love.
Monty 11.13.25. # 3,052