Lydia – the inked lady
Stained my fingers, palms and wrists,
Hues soaked in from inky vats.
My business funds the faith of many,
Hope and promise, gladly shared.
Praised by people and Apostle
We cannot know the life we birth.
For centuries, this Asia Minor,
Will sing the songs we teach them now.
How many generations follow?
Reading our mail and telling our tale?
How many will take their fabrics of colour
To teach of the seasons and learn of the Way?
Return on investment – not yet to be seen,
But in gathered disciples in Heaven they’ll be.
Let the ink seep into my skin,
Like the writing of names into my being.
Let unknown names be written within
So I may bear witness with clouds to them.
© 2017, A.Koh-Butler
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for visiting, I look forward to hearing from you.
When making a comment, please remember this is a site frequented by young people and those who may not be up with your jargon.