Finding faith

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I am pulled upward, daily,

To the skies

Where the love affair of my eyes

Harvests fusions of drive-by shapes

 

 Their random designs spur spiritual senses,

I am suspended

Effortlessly in their broad brands of white, grays, and electric blues

 

Artistic holiness floods the horizon

Mornings’ champagne, noonday honey and evening rose golds

Silver the edges of feathers, wisps, castles and tadpoles

 

One birthday wish?

To bottle the clouds

In sea glass with an air tight cork plug

 

So I could say “hello” each morning to a white wash of creations

On my kitchen sill,

The sighs of coffee in steamy spots on the window

 

O clouds! How alike you are to my soul—

Wisped-tailed or tornado, white squalled or subtle

The streaming of my spirit turning in over itself

 

Where the discomforts of my faith

Tighten their grip on reality

I rest in the beauty and strength of your inherent nature

To move, sweep, and swirl

 

I see you sky!

Your beautiful radiant works

The magnificence you unfold minute by minute

A drop cloth of kinetic art

 

Does my faith look like you?

Do wonder and anticipation wake up your eyes?

Knowing that the very nature of your pleasure and beauty for my heart

Is by design,

Am I, too, your art?

 

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