Hope in This
Nothing humbles as a star-strewn sky.
Heavenly orbs mock the works of my hands,
Reminding me that I am but a passing breath;
My word will not remain when the stars pass away.
There is only comfort in this:
It was not in God's image these stars were made.
Though my breath escapes and becomes feeble,
It is God's breath within me.
1 comment:
Joel, this is deep. And beautiful, too. It's kind of breathtaking to be reminded that despite the soul-wrenching immensity of God's creation, we are the ones made in His image. I even laughed a little at the end of the poem - it seems unbelievable! Kind of the way Sarah laughed when the angel told her she was going to have a baby...like, no way! haha, but it's true!
I'm sorry if commenting is embarrassing - I just wanted to thank you for that one!
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