Child Of God ÷ Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

Your words, I'm hearing said clear from On High, to glisten outwards, empowered by this enlightenment, given bright and glorious; outside a harsh world: known lies.

I see, coming towards me, in a far distant storm, thunder raging, feel its fierce high wind, approaching, thrilling its seen skies, beholding stormy conditions; Your gentle love: of humanity.

I envisioned moments, such as your calm wink, assuring cure sure it is hot, super, in my mind's eye, seeing total greatness, the ultimate, stating facts I have no sight: surely it's a lost truth: I'm completely blind.

Your generous grace overwhelms, gives joy to others, none like You, with patience and love to seek out those that are less fortunate; despite being not like You, it is my endeavor.

You're, like spring, giving growth, blooming, touch no cold, freed inside, eared whisper, unto my life, a name all others I don't hear: so high.