Yours is a love where all may find a place.
The landscapes of your soul encompass all,
and mean and mighty each seek out your grace.
You touch all lives, as rain-soft petals fall
and in their fall enrich new earths they touch,
and bloom again in springs you will not see.
Yours is a love that suffers overmuch
as vagrant sons turn toward far galaxies.

Yet still you love. All find a home in you,
in peace as warm as amber, deep as shade.
They travel far, returning to renew
the love that fills the many homes you made,
to know your still-compassionate embrace.
Yours is a love where all may find a place.

--
copyright November 1998
Jerry Jenkins