The Virgin Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

THE VIRGIN

Walking in the meadows I shall dream,
Wearing a coat of soft, raven wool.
I shall bathe in the breeze, scented and cool,
Sprayed by the happy froth of a stream.

I shall mediate on only love,
And make my way to a chapel by the sea,
To kneel by a shrine of majesty,
Beneath the azure sky above.

And when the dying day does slowly depart,
With the silence of a vagabond,
My mind shall ascend to the blissful beyond,
Where angels praise the Virgin's heart.

JOHN LARS ZWERENZ

TAKEN FROM JOHN LARS ZWERENZ
THE COMPLETE ANTHOLOGY
2020