God's Angels

Upon the ground I lay it:
A mind harried and weak.
Briefest touch of Soul-Balm
Pained thoughts always will seek.

Next to the mind, a bloody heart
Still beating in its ire,
No matter how much truth it tells
Tis still counted a liar.

Next to the bloody, burning heart
I lay a body down.
Praying that, by Grace and Purity
It will somehow be found.

Last, yet most, a spirit laid over all,
Ever willing to take the fall.
Ever apt to feel such pain
For by it only will there be gain.

Mind, heart, body, spirit:
Side by side they lay.
Before them all a child
I once knew silently prays.

I see his hands clasped,
The wetness on his face,
He pleads, in my behalf,
For God's own daughter Grace.

While tis sweet to hear such words
Uttered by the young,
Would that they could be spoken
By my forked tongue.

What I am, I do not know.
I, hurting, on dirt now laid.
Yet if ever a prayer can reach Heaven
Twill be one this child prays.

If prayer transcends time and space,
And I believe it does,
Perhaps I can be saved
By this Me-That-Was.

Innocence will never return.
Purity can.
By the plea of Innocence,
Grace can write a new plan.

Now they come, wrap their arms
Around the child Me
By their power, and their charm,
They speak, and help him see:

By the path he'll tread,
He'll harm spirit, body, mind, and heart.
But by that same path he'll learn
The meaning of goodness,
The joy of new starts.

By his pain will come Empathy,
Another of God's daughters fair.
"By anguish comes the miracle.
By pain one learns to care.

Pain makes you more pure.
Above all else, let come what may,"
God's angels say, "But endure."

Adam Scott Campbell