I'm not a poet
I had to do this talk and project on "Oulipo" - a workshop of writers who try to set themselves strict limits to stimulate their creativity. They describe themselves as "rats who build their own maze to find the way out of".
One of their techniques is to cut down poems to make new structures that they say are sometimes more powerful than the original. I tried with this one. You may recognise the original.
Helpless babe,
Glory veiled;
To serve,
That we might live.
Garden tears.
Chose to bear;
His heart torn,
'Yours,' He said.
Hands and feet,
Sacrifice,
Stars in space.
Cruel nails.
Learn to serve,
Enthrone Him;
To prefer
Serving.
One of their techniques is to cut down poems to make new structures that they say are sometimes more powerful than the original. I tried with this one. You may recognise the original.
Helpless babe,
Glory veiled;
To serve,
That we might live.
Garden tears.
Chose to bear;
His heart torn,
'Yours,' He said.
Hands and feet,
Sacrifice,
Stars in space.
Cruel nails.
Learn to serve,
Enthrone Him;
To prefer
Serving.
Comments
But perhaps for calligraphying? Stanza three? Framed on a wall?
Or a banner? Now there's a thought!