When a metaphor on blessed wings
flies to the heart like Mary’s dove
or when you seek it, you grimed with earth,
in the darkest places of the heart
still you must examine it with a surgeon’s skill;
probe; bleed; question; diagnose
before you ask of it, consent
to grace your magnificat.
Michael Shepherd
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-grace-of-metaphor/
