Hidden In Time Poem by THEODORE MOSLEY

He was born with the innocence of love created from heaven to behold the immigration of time.

Looking into the eyes of desolation with eyes of submission he surrenders his being for love.

The baby whispers his sleep of dreams in the monastery of his cradle; night dreams became nightmares.

Forced to withhold his breathing from nature his cries are heard in the solemn place of tranquility.

What should have been his peace beyond understanding is now his incarceration of living.

In his silence the waves of domestic love are constricting his movements for love.

His condemnation is solidified with the justification of his tormentors' value of living.

The spirit of his birth is broken with the captivity of the rod planted within his tenderness.

Innocent and forming he speaks with his tears that formulated from the hospice of his care.

He was hidden in time on the wings of angels for his journey from everlasting to everlasting.

Written by
Theodore Mosley
December 12,2016