you

~ dedicated to Lisa, Jenihe, Katie, Rheanna, Elizabeth, Scarfnee ~ ~ and all of their sisters ~

an emptiness, an absent void
darkness, cold and still- then, like the
ripples on the sea before a storm
warm Breath gave shapeless mass its infant form

first ink, then coal, then heavy clouds,
then ash, then fog- all shades of grey
the rising Wind sang strong and bright
it freed the day and bound the night

expanse of white: a canvas dry
but over and under, a flood of tears
the Artist's brush, dipped in clear,
swept from end to end: the sky

now dipped in brown, and red, and black
His fingertip parted the seas
whispering tides fled solid rock
booming waves came tumbling back

over stark and barren land
canopies of green were spread
sprung from seeds so smoothly, swiftly scattered
by Sower's gentle, quivering hand

sky, siezed by Inspiration
made pale, and gold, the third day earth
by light of moon and stars, and sun
cast new light on creation's birth

siezed again, its quiet space was filled
with dancing wings and mournful cries
and deeper blue, given Life, as well,
by flashing scales and unblinking eyes

more lively still, the next day's dawn,
when all His creatures great and small
walked virgin grass and water's surface,
found heights to climb and crevices to crawl

and ruler over all of these
God's mirror, made of flesh and bone
delighted in everything his eyes could see
yet knew he was alone

~ ~ ~

a disturbing phrase: “it is not good”
my heart asks the question the words imply
I set out for beyond the furthest stars
seeking a divinely wise reply

deeper than the deepest riddle
eyes unclouded, unconcealed
reveal what tongues cannot express
bring dreams to life, and make them real

i kneel before Creator's throne
He bids me rise, and cast my gaze
across His gallery of art,
a millenium's work of seven days

soothing like the sound of rain
with a heart more joyful than angels' songs
bringing pleasures, stealing pain
showing me where i belong

He shows me narrow veins of gold
and mighty rivers smooth as glass
i bow to honor His wondrous crafts,
yet i bow still lower, as you pass

smoother, softer than a rose
the lips that heaven's glory kissed
stirring souls as sunsets do
refreshing like the morning mist

His firstborn son awakes; He rests,
for what could add to His reknown?
what beauty to improve God's very best?
what gem bright enough for creation's crown?