A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These lines rose like dawn light warming a waiting tongue, born from the radiant declaration of Lamentations 3:24 — that the Lord is our portion. In every season, through every shifting wind and shadowed path, Christ is our everything: the sweet honey that surges through the pulse, the fragrant spice of unshakable hope, the thunderous voice that rolls across the open sky, our exquisite and inexhaustible provision.

May this sonnet pour golden radiance into your lifted eyes, set dancing feet upon paths of living light, and carry the triumphant, majestic joy that such a truth awakens.

With hope that soars,

The Poet

Note on Form

This poem is a Shakespearean sonnet: fourteen lines of iambic pentameter with the classic rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG.

Lamentations 3:24

“The Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.”

In radiant dawn that warms the waiting tongue

And fills the air with sweet and living breath,

The soul announces triumph, freely sung:

The Lord alone is everything—true life past death!

It drinks the sweetness mercy pours like dew

And tastes the joy that sweeps away all pain;

It breathes the spice of hope the victors knew

And hears a voice that rolls like thunder’s reign.

Now dancing feet explore the paths of light;

A golden glow floods every lifted eye;

Warm honey surges through each pulsing beat

While winds of promise perfume the open sky.

So soul and sense rise up in pure delight—

In Christ our all—exquisite, triumphant light!

To God be the glory always and only.