God Has Always Sent Me Angel Poem by Mark Heathcote

God has always sent me angels
But I have never recognised one
Least not until he sent me you
And then, I felt His emanations

Trembling like the morning dew
Then my hearth drowned overrun
Every sweated tear dropped in that
Movement called me out

At the broken edges of sameness
Hands bleeding, clutching glass
I give to you my heart, shameless
Faithless, lost in search of hope,
Yearning for that one remote - perhaps,
Perchance you too will disrobe.

Bear your soul, naked as a spring lamb,
That I might lay down my life
Sacrifice all… I am as a man.
And find a woman equal:
A wife in this, and the afterlife
Two halves made one, coequal.