A seraph stood before me
With her wings bound to the clutches of her breasts,
And she spoke to me softly
As her hair gently danced around her head,
“Ye hath been granted this fruit,
By thy Lord of all Lords.
Bare there no conscience in this truth,
A gift not yet danced with thy sword.
And soeth, lest Ye not be thy lamb,
Open thine own wings, and flourish thy heart in hand,
Envelope – not steal thy breath
Of God’s likeness and greatest crest
Bind all and all shall bind
For a convenant, Ye hath vest.”
The feathered cradle then opened,
Slowly emerging the life.
In the arms of this seraph,
A child of God’s delight.
Her arms slowly reached to me
With this child in her palms,
And I took from her this child,
And the child began to sing her song.
I enveloped her, but did not steal her breath,
And bowed my head in blissful happiness.
Upon this moment I thought to myself,
No wonders of all wonders can be as this,
The greatest little wonder of the world.
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