But as for you, my little one,
In that cold, jagged moment
When all things suddenly stopped,
Did you notice the star
As it broke from the high constellation
And fell towards you
Until it filled your night?
As its soft light washed over you,
Gathered you up?
Who can say when your frail heart went under,
Surrounded by the thunder of His wings?
Did your eyes open like flowers swimming
Into the bright depths of His burning gaze
As He bore you ever higher to where the rainbow starts?
Who among the angels has not rejoiced with you,
Looking on as you become like gold,
Pure gold in the furnace of His heart?
Here a story has begun.
In which nothing can hurt you.
Nothing.
Nothing can hurt you.
Nothing.
Nothing can hurt you.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Steve Scott