A poem by Gideon Heugh

You are a wild and gleeful thing,
nudged by lavish grace
towards all the astonishments,
and nothing can stop it
or you.

You are not a mistake.
The earth aches
for your singular life,
for the miracle radiance of purely,
specifically you.

The shakings and the dark noises
of a man-made world
cannot compete with your kingdom blood,
your hosanna spirit,
or with the gentle fury of hope.