I am but a molecule, if I were to compare my existence to what I am limited to imagine of his.
I live in the palm of his hand; I sleep in the crevasses.
When I call his name, silent in my prayers, whispers of his breath rouse my spirit.
He’s the oxygen to my lungs, I’m marked by his blood.
A refreshing aroma, like salt in the air around the oceans, his very essence envelops me in peace and inspires my days.
He’s gracious, much like the stillness of lake water early in the morning.
Still, steadfast in his ways, rapid are his waves of honesty, but elegant are the tides of mercy that rise, and allow iniquities to be washed away.
He’s the quiet in the cold, a blanket of snow to fall on my anxieties.
My hopes and my needs are engraved in his thoughts. His name branded; a crest sealed upon my heart.
I know him to be a part of everything in my life. Where I have traveled, there he would be.
I have found his hand steady, the backbone to my life, the light to my feet.
He’s Mighty, and I am like a tree, rooted in his safety.
He looks upon Earth from beyond the stars, yet, in his eyes, my existence amplified.
He crafted my existence, He’s my secret keeper, my counselor. He makes the Sunshine for my days and the Moon to echo a soft glow at night.
My thoughts resonate in his ears, my tears gathered and touched by him.
My flesh cannot contain the majesty of his existence, yet he’s honored to have my friendship.
He’s the music that radiates in my ears, I like him loud enough for others to hear. He's the Rock song of my rebellious spirit, the raspy voice of a bluesy song; one that speaks to my soul. He's the vibration of cymbals, the beating of drums, the hum of energy in the air, a rhythm for my heart to follow.
-AB-
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