NEARING APOGEE
I have read that this is possible.
He demolished the front door, and love rushed in
He smashed the windows, and love rushed in
He wrecked the roof, and love rushed in
A prodigal son who had wallowed in sin and lust, and the ways of a fallen world ripped himself from his moorings—with fear, he returned
And love rushed in
And he accepted breath, accepted love
He stood the lavish weight of incalculable kisses
He was robed in delicate garments spun from silk
He was betrothed
A garnet jewel adorned his finger
He feasted on the fatted calf of the Father
His barn burst with grain; his flock multiplied
Having come home.
I am him; almost.