Starting this week in the Chimes, we are featuring selections of poetry once a month. Send in your submission! Email: [email protected] Subject: Poet’s Pad

When the sun rises, that morning phoenix,
It gives life and light to this dark, dead world
And dazzles the world with shades of red,
Creating shadows where once was night,
Then I think — “God, you’re beautiful.”

When I see the glen, all green and blue,
Where the fawn drinks from the brook,
A gentle stream enshrouded by pines
Through which the Spirit ever whispers,
Then I smile — “God, you’re beautiful.”

When I observe that hideous cross,
That crimson wood where true Life died,
The tears, the blood, the water, the pain —
All of it mine once, now paid in full.
Then I weep — “God, you’re beautiful.”

When I see an angel laying in my arms,
Smiling her way through fear and doubt
And realize that her kiss is a spark
From a heavenly fire of true love,
Then I laugh — “God, you’re beautiful.”

And when the sun sets and the stars appear,
Little beacons of light to guide me home,
To the eternal rest where pain is a memory,
And I see the face of the voice I know,
Then I will shout — “God, you’re beautiful.”

When wedding bells echo across the galaxies
And the Groom finally sees His eternal beloved,
Clothed in radiant white and glowing smiles,
The angels will stand and the Father will cry,
And the Son will say — “Bride, you’re beautiful.”