wedding crasher

 

 

The feast is open,  

but the garment is the story—  

threads of witness,  

woven from days of faith,  

acts of mercy,  

songs of endurance.  

 

Without it,  

a guest stands silent,  

unclothed in testimony,  

and the hall itself  

casts him out.  

 
 
 
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Author's Notes/Comments: 

the feast begins in the heart and ascends the heights of heaven

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