Poetry

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The skies applaud You with thundering rhapsodies; I see you glorified in the celestial bodies; the foliage and flowers, they shout of your powers; the birds sing your praise as they flit through the trees. The only question to be asked, is what about me?
I sit here dazed, confused; my mind has gone blank in awe of you. I’d had a list of things that I’d planned to say, but my tongue is wordless and I can’t even pray. I could say: “You are holy”, but that would just be stating the obvious; I am unworthy and my praise seems monotonous. I could raise my voice, but it wouldn’t do You justice, I could leap for joy, but You deserve something more illustrious. I could offer You my life, but it’s already Yours; I could recount all Your works, but I’d give You the bores. Human expression is all I could try, but I will always miss the mark, when I shoot at the sky. My efforts are in vain and my words too few, to express my insurmountable amazement of You.

-Jared Norton 2003.

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