What are those dots upon your face,
most darlingest of misses?
They could be chickenpox, I guess;
more likely, angel kisses.
As just a girl myself I thought
of freckles as a scourge,
but now I’m old and love those spots
and thrill as yours emerge.
You see, a...
Anoint in preparation
The face, the hands, the feet;
Put blood upon the lintels
In venues where you’ll meet.
Wait for the cloud of glory
To settle in its place;
Do not intrude unhallowed
on ground that’s sacred space.
Tie ropes around your ankles,
Tie bells along your seams,
Tie Jesus to...