Mirrored Image... Poem by Trevor Schulte

To see the face of God
rarely occurs through a human.
Seldom is His reflection seen so pure
as to not know at which point
the mirror image leaves mortality
and becomes of angelic nature.
At which point will her passion for others,
for her sister and brothers,
be seen so clean as to end up serene.
Oh, the admiration I have
for this expression of beauty
that passes by mere objectivity
and lands beyond what we call human.
But there it lies, pure of nature
and focused on ideal perfection.
She walks with such grace
and promising hopes.
Pushing not for the simplistic answer
but the hard striven truth.
To seek the beyond, and press for the unanswerable
is not of human extent,
but is of a Godly scent.
A fragrance that flows to the point of no return;
a sight the blinds even the vision of angels;
a creation that God looks to in remembrance
of what the meaning of hope stands for.
Need not she speak to inspire a shift,
sending all of man's mind adrift,
to a land of humbled words
where her mere sight be the gift.
The stoned footprints that she leaves behind,
inspire many of which, haven't entered time.
This beauty breaks boundaries that
one ought to own;
stirring some stimulation from
sandprints to stone.
Ultimately, to find oneself in her midst
will be the answer to all questions,
and to one day approach her face to face
will be at an anticipated discretion.