Hearts Poem by Pierre Rausch

In Bethlehem, in the heart of Judea, lives not the least among the
rulers
Out of you shall come a ruler, who is Sheppard, who is art
Go and search it carefully, search that young child in me.
Confess what you may find, just come and bring me back my mind
It's this Gospel according to some Matthew, chapter two

Fine kings departed to behold, stars in the east their way had told
Why seems the world we live so cold
Your hearts have opened me this treasure; have presented me the
greatest pleasure
Gifts over gold and myrrh when the kiss of your heart is near
So lay hands upon my shoulders
Arms around neck and folder
Whenever we sit next to the lake
Our faces in the wave's mirror do shake
Confess what you may find, just come and bring back my mind
It's this Gospel according, some Matthew, Chapter two

Your heart weeps, amends and morns
I fished, a sadly favored form
With hearst and fire in my eyes
Where shall be found seed to these tries
These souls, thought, in the land Israel
To fold the hands I bear
Down the knees I am scared
Hearts, hearts