Lost In Search Of Hope Poem by Mark Heathcote

But I have never recognised one
least not until he sent me you
and then, I felt His emanations.

Trembling like the morning dew
then my hearth drowned overrun
every sweated tear dropped in that
subtle-movement called me out.

At the broken edges of sameness
hands bleeding, clutching broken-glass
I give to you my heart, shameless
faithless, lost in search of hope,
yearning for that one remote - perhaps,
perchance you too will disrobe.

Bear your soul; naked as a spring lamb,
that I might lay down my life
sacrifice all I am as a man.
And find a woman equal
a wife in this and the afterlife
two halve made one, coequal.