Poetry

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I went out into the cool black sea of night,
And the stars scintillated
Like bright shells caught
In the foam caps of the heavans.
I sat on the edge of the universe,
And listened to the sound of silent breakers,
Drumming upon the shores of creation,
Like they've done since that first night,
That first deep, dark unveiling of His majesty,
When the stars sang from a million galaxies,
After the first day of transcendent light,
Emanating from the heart of God.

"Count the stars, if you can," He said,
"Such is the heritage of those who serve me."

Looking at the stars--
So many, and so far away--
How could anyone hope to understand
The creation, or the Creator?
Yet He has not left the darkness alone,
He has placed his beacons for all to see.

I rest in the heart of the cosmos,
In the palm of God's hand,
And I know that He sees me,
He hears my heartbeat,
And He knows who I am.
Listen! The rythym of life is within me!
And so is He.

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