Song 5.5 |The Lock

I rose up to open my heart
To my beloved.
And my hands, folded in prayer
Dropped with myrrh. 
And my fingers, learning to fight
With sweet smelling myrrh, were scented.
Upon the handles of the lock,
Satisfied and trusting.

Published by David B. Smith

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

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