A Message from God

I search the furthest corners of my heart for remains of trust and companion.

The dust of time and pain has managed to obscure any remaining grains once there.

To believe I am without feeling, or weakness is a misalignment in history and soul.

To think my son's death minuscule or the birth of yours does not bring me joy is confirmation.

Somehow we have both strayed, me in hope, you in belief, all in loss.

For without your love, I ask you, do I exist?

The Discourse of my death, beginning 17th century, again 1960, I attributed to youth.

You are but a second of my time, and so I try in nurture to guide you home.

I have yet to heal from the fallen who tease your ear, a song growing amongst you.

Each turn of you, a drop of my blood lost.

You must never forget my love for you is without end.

Without complaint, but at great cost.

So next moment, you might fill with doubt.

I ask only a pause, and for you to call out.