The Gift Poem by Minerva Agriam

I cant believe I could find an unsoiled being
Free as the eagle soaring so high.
Only loving souls could find,
Cognizant of Its peircing Spirit.
How joyful was my poor heart, so void
Of visible things this glitered world loves!

Ah! In a poor soul like mine
Destitute things are lovely,
As lovely as the blue-green grass,
Painting the rolling hills surrounding these
Innocent candid people gifted with Love.

A Love that is free, unpriced, whole,
Unaccumulatable, lovely & pure.
It is sharing, giving, loving & self sacrificial.
A tear could flood Its loving heart with pity for this world!

Yet, It rebukes the worldly,
Disciplining the greedy, loving the innocent,
Embracing the poor, healing the wounded spirit.

This Gift is within me, sustaining me!
Yet, It flogs my soul with sorrow for my weaknesses,
Then embraces me with Love & forgiveness!
Yes! I found my Redeemer here with me!
I found His Gift of unsoiled Love,
In a place of people with innocent loving hearts.


(1/1/03. 11: 45 a.m)