The Harvest

The seven spirits of love ride high
Upon the eagle in flight,
Bearing witness with the souls of men
In the midnight hour.
The harvest comes early in the
Abounding grace,
Of a love so pure that minds cannot
Contain it.
Listen to the sounds of light that
Speak of truth.
Obey the voice of daybreak and
Become the light.
Walk the narrow path and you
Shall be
The firstfruits of the golden
Harvest.


Poem inspired by the Holy Spirit
Judith Anne Revalee Alexander (c)

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