The Sparrow and the Lamb

Here I find myself, in this solemn stately pew,
joined by speckled stained glass rainbows, paying their due.
Cloudy ap-parishioners sing a Latin hymn.
Voices echo from the past, through centuries grown dim.

Saints and martyrs gathered ’round; I’m sitting all alone,
near twisting, twirling, swirling, of intertwining stone,
climbing up grey pillars, to golden vaults’ expanse,
with candle chandeliers raining fireflies that dance.

The godly of the decades, hovering in glass,
Silently worship at this sparrow’s Sunday mass.
Small and plain am I, amidst eternal splendor,
overwhelmed with awe for my Author, my Creator.

From the gilded cross there, the Son shines down on me,
while movelessly He strains, to hear each whispered plea,
to wipe each trickling tear, that only He can see -
the Lamb, He loves the sparrow, and the Lamb loves me.

Share this
Continue Reading
About the Author

Joy Nevin Axelson earned a B.A. and an M.A. in French. She also attended Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. She’s the translation coordinator for GlobalFingerprints, the EFCA’s child sponsorship branch. Her translations of training materials are used at 14 international sites. She enjoys traveling with her husband and two older children.