The heavens spread in smiling blue above,
No voice of wrath or thunder forewarned fate,
No sign was sent to promise guiding love;
No darkling clouds foretold celestial hate.
No birds fell lifeless from the swaying boughs,
No storm-flung bolt betrayed His presence there—
No omen, good or ill to shake my vows…
The vapored air serene, without a care;
No shadow darkened day’s resplendent gleam,
The sun shone soft, no scorching glare to chide,
As I stood mute—lost deep within my dream;
No booming voice my conscience to deride.
And as I mused, while silence shadowed me,
Perhaps cruel crimes of love—He does not see.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.