He calls me by name,
The winds carry God’s voice from Heaven.
The sound dancing, caressing my face, my soul,
He speaks my name.
A single word as proof that he hears me, he sees me, he feels me, and
I matter.
The others did not speak my name.
I, an after thought, did not exist.
I was not real.
His tender mouth creates me into being.
My name upon his lips,
I am born again with each utterance.
He calls me by name and I am.
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2 comments:
Fabulous poetry!! You gave ME an idea as well...I have poems I have done nothing with except make a self-published book out of them. I used to have a web page way back in the 90's. You might have just inspired me as well :)
One word. Beautiful!!
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