Friday, July 28, 2023

I Can't See You



I can't see you,  

but I know you are there. 


I feel you with my hands 

when I touch what you have made. 

The world is full of your creations,

we should all be amazed!


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there. 


When I'm alone, 

I know you are with me 

I feel your presence in the air,

the water, the breeze in the trees,

the aroma from the flowers,

and the miracle of the tiny seeds. 


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there.  


I see the birds fly across the sky, 

I see the water move in waves, 

I see what your hands have made

I even looked in the mirror and saw

the miracle you molded in my mother's womb.


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there.


I hear the birds chirping outside, 

they are music flying in the sky. 

No need to clothe or feed 

for your hand I do not see 

keeps them filled, clothed, and free.


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there. 


The creatures so small, 

and under a microscope detailed in a complex look 

which only a Creator could piece together 

and not the Universe with a blasted explosion that shook!


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there. 


Complex, yet simple. 

Creative, yet complete. 

Life's origin is your masterpiece,

and all is forever unique.


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there. 


Time can go slow or fast 

with you it has no boundary.

A day is said to be a thousand years 

in your realm of time,

yet here time is like a bind.


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there. 


When our days are complete 

where our gifts are used or left to decay,

I know my Creator lives on 

with dust to our bodies while our souls long 

to stand by your side with crowns among the throng.


I can't see you,  

but I know you are there.


Let's toss the crowns at your feet 

for eternity we will meet 

praising your name 

forever more.


I can see you, 

I was wrong.

You are everywhere, and 

I know that you are not just there but here.



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Poem Template

A Whim to Write
On the art of starting again

I have a whim to write so write I will.
Can’t believe I am being this still.

I type and I type to no avail.
I can’t believe it, so I guess I will.

What says the key — can it really be
an a or a y? I really can’t say why.

I have a whim to write, so write I will.
When night time comes, I pick up my quill.

Some say I’m lazy and others say naught.
When I sit here and write, I’m not such a snot.

I love the sound of the keys that clank,
or the pen that strikes as I sit down to write.

Well here we go again, picking up where we left off —
not quite sure what to write, but at least it’s a start.

Good night my protagonist.
It was good to see you again.
I’ll finish your scene without you letting out a scream.

The days are long and the nights too short.
I’ll finish your story sometime in the morning.

With coffee brewed and in the mood,
I’ll pick up where we left off,
and again we will start.

— Written in 2015

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