by Sean O’Neill

If stars came down and glittered in my hand,
if oceans wept upon my brow like rain,
if embers could ignite at my command,
I’d raise my hand and venture to abstain.

For I am no sly conjuror to sleight
with deft machinery or furtive trick.
Will I usurp the Godhead of his right,
or raise my boast like some fey lunatic?

Yet what of fear that He would cast me down
when in my folly I were thus arrayed?
It’s boundless love that clouds His wrathful frown 
and love ensures his arm of justice stayed.

So humbly I will creep to His footstool,
conceding I am but a hopeful fool.

Sean O’Neill was born in Scotland, but has lived in the USA for the past 15 years and is a lay minister of a church in Lansing, Michigan. He has had poetry published in a variety of journals, including First Things, The Ottawa Literary Review, Living Bulwark, Reformed Journal, Clay Jar Review and American Literary. Sean has published 17 collections of poetry and is the author of five novels and four non-fiction books, including the bestselling How To Write a Poem: A Beginner’s Guide. He runs the Kolbitars Poetry Group in Lansing, Michigan, USA.

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