One God—when no one else—sufficient.
One Love, created us, proficient.
Our wills, returning love, deficient.
One Sacrifice applied, efficient.
The Voice spoke to conceive,
not a replica, a reflection,
a moon to the sun of affection,
mirroring the source of election: the only Fountainhead.
The Word came to reprieve,
with an amnesty with proviso,
the news on its combat radio:
enfleshing in our own barrio is heaven’s bold beachhead.
The Nurse healed to relieve
the wounds of warring wills of lovers
to unify sisters and brothers,
loving equally God and others: peace terms of the Godhead.