Poetry

That the Divine Finger Touches all Within— That God’s presence moves the corpuscles and separates neutrons from protons– Is enough to make me Wonder–and praise the nameless Deity– In spite of convoluted passions and Crazy zealots’ intent on PowerandControl– Force-feeding wretched dogma into innocent Hungry hearts searching. I praise the God who cried through bushes…

The celestial beings hover over us Nightly Winking and turning their heads To eye us in our slumber. The moon makes the rounds And never misses, not even an inch— Scans from across the spheres That umbrella our existence Overhead. The breath of the fresh wind Carries seeds of hope and vibrance In its sweeping…

Planted side by side, 12 trees Once lined the drive, up to our home where we live- where we rest, work, play, cry.   Eighteen years they framed our periphery. Markers of majesty, preceding the front entry like medieval trumpet players would announce the crown.   Our kingdom was humble save for the long line…