Prime Targets Poem by Mark Heathcote

Like a sparrow hawk, God came to me
He subjected himself before me powerless.
And said? I am to you what is all mighty.
But never the less, I am powerless,
You are the life force of my breath...
Take heed, I am not the source of your death
I am only the sling; you are my arrow…
I only fired you as does a child, a yearling
Does into the wind carrying the yarrow…
It's me there for who kneels before you?
A prime target, you mustn't fail to find aim.
Do your assailant - heart's worst, distrusting-
Powerlessly, one who neither—
Shows weakness or cowardice in vain?