In My House of Three
There never was a body
In my house of Three
That gave me infinitesimal right
Except the will of me.
If, I swear, mine eyes could talk,
They'd never curse my mouth,
But blind me most to sputtered truths
I rather like myself.
Heaven's only sweetest
When I deny myself.
To do I use my intellect;
For I have nothing else.
That God is thus residing,
And heaven's gate nearby,
I lie still and feel His breath -
He wakes my soul to fly.
© 2014 Cynthia Taggart