GIFT, NOT A CYMBAL
I may speak of languages of the ancient,
I may proclaim mysteries of near Orient
I may speak tounges of praises as angels
If my heart is barren of love as dungeon...
I may comprehend books of great Aquinas
I may write like Augustine or one of Sienna,
I may prophesy like Ezekiel, Micah or Isaiah
If I am empty of love, I boil down to nothing!
You may have the faith that can roll the ocean,
You may have the hope that endure and shine
You may paint like the genius of Sistine chapel,
If cruelty is a seal and a mark of heart so mean...
We may have the wild endurance, accomplished,
We may have speech as eloquent, likes of Cicero
We may have the beauty that launch many ships
If we don't love God and others, no heart but lips!
Love is kind, polite not brash; patient till the end,
Love is not arrogant nor selfish; ills never remain
Love is not envious nor jealous; with gentleness
It is a gift, not banging cymbal, - hymn so blessed!
All rights reserved: Cynthia Abegail Bernardo
(Another beautiful literary gem from our Cynthia