Song 5.2 |Open

I sleep, death has no victory,
But my heart waketh: I hear his sound.
It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, 
I am his, a sheep of his fold,
Saying, Open to me, 
My sister, joint-heir;
My love, chosen;
My dove, ravished;
My undefiled: sanctified.
For my head is filled with dew, 
To the satisfying of the soul,
And my locks with the drops of the night.
Fueled by tears, purified by suffering.

Published by David B. Smith

Author, podcaster, pastor, and Big Pappa to my grandchildren.

3 thoughts on “Song 5.2 |Open

      1. ❤️😁 You are welcome. You are doing well too. I am glad you like my poem. It’s honor to have others gather to share and express. This is partly why I have a blog. It’s a good way to share the Lord’s gifts.

        Liked by 1 person

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