With An Ordinance Of Grace Poem by Mark Heathcote

With an ordinance of grace, I want to die.
Drop like a lemon, too heavy for the sky.
I want to have every pip squeezed dry.
I've given everything before I die.

With an ordinance of grace, I want to testify.
I want your love to kill me. Make me cry.
Show me at my lowest; I still swing high!
Reaching upward, Lord, let me espy.

With an ordinance of grace, I can still fly.
Join those ephemeral things like butterflies.
That has two lives that cocoon and solidify.
With such beauty, I cannot quantify

With an ordinance of grace, I want to detoxify.
Put all my sins behind me and glorify
How I survived like some ancient Samurai
I lived with honour and died. Lord, I am gratified.

With an ordinance of grace, I too was crucified.
I thank you, Lord, even though I am a little dissatisfied.
No hurt or love was ever classified.
Nothing was ever oversimplified.