Only a tiny piece of flesh.
Here upon a naked stage.
We dance for a quiet moment.
Then all is gone to oblivion.
A cross stands as a simple prop.
Since its inception, a BOWED eye.
Even the evil knows its place.
A simple cross in all of space.
Reverence for a second or fast.
It calls with a profound cast.
You can feel its weight at times.
BUT, the GOD above is part of the rhyme.
Only for a moment to dance.
Then THE JUDGEMENT - at a glance.
from my poem book - DREAMS 2