Words.
What words can express your thoughts of me?
How oh Father do you see me?
You see me as your breath.
You whispered my beginning and end like a sweet summer’s wind.
A wind, that crescendos and decrescendos through your glorious creation.
My desire to leave no trace of self, but only an untainted aroma of You.
The wind is not to be seen, but to showcase that of what it touches.
To glorify its Creator’s creation.
Created by you to gracefully dance with brightly colored autumn leaves.
And to boldly accompany the roaring thunder and profound streams of light in a performance of storming rains.
You have made me the whisper of your voice.
An echo of your beauty.
The breath of your lounges.
The wind. Your wind.
A Poem written in SirLanka
