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Three Poems by Mark Weinrich

stained glass, image by Kevin McIver, on Pixabay


The butterfly basks

wings flat and wide

gathering every ray of warmth

waiting for cold weights of night

to fall away, waiting for the

paralyzing chill to be driven

from its body, waiting for

the strength to rise.

Knowing the weightless

release will come.

"But they who wait upon the Lord

will get new strength. They will rise...

(Isaiah 40:31)



It does not burn,

but how it fills the night.

It paints the earth

a frosty gold

by the power

of another.

Its guiding glow

is not its own,

but the image

of one brighter,

its radiant face

a mirror

the reflection

of the sun.

(Previously published in HICALL)



Broken bits of colored glass

bound in lead,

my life in early years;

too close to see

the pattern,

colors in confusion,

breaking times

and molded lead.

As distance grows

a picture comes together

not of me, but of the artist

who found an empty temple

and broken bits of glass,

and made a portrait of Himself

in the window of my heart.

(Previously published in Alliance Life)

Mark Weinrich is a gardener, hiker, musician, cancer survivor,

and retired pastor. His work has been published in numerous

literary and inspirational magazines. He has also sold eight

children’s books and currently has two fantasy novels on Kindle.

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