Burning Echoes Poem by April Humason

Before the child ever took its breath,
Before the world could speak of death,
There was a stirring, deep within,
A holy echo wrapped in skin.

A woman clothed with heaven's light,
Carried glory hidden from sight.
A destiny pulsed beneath her heart,
While darkness plotted to tear apart.

A dragon rose in crimson flame,
Hissing out the holy name.
He watched the womb, he stalked the seed,
Hungry for the child God decreed.

The earth shook under shadowed wing,
The air grew sharp with threatening sting.
Yet God prepared a hidden place,
Where she would run and find His grace.

The serpent lunged, but heaven stood,
A shield of fire where danger could.
The womb was guarded. The child was sealed.
The dragon's lies were overruled.

Echoes burned not with fear or pain,
But with promise flowing through her veins.
The fire was not of hell or dread,
But holy light around her spread.

The dragon fell. The woman rose.
Protected by what heaven chose.
And in the echoes of the womb,
Lived victory — not doom.