When you look into His eyes and know,
No other could ever look at you, this way;
Is it the sculptor's trumpet to blow?
Or Is it His presence, promising, with you to stay?
When you return His gaze, upon you fixated,
Instead of shifting shyly, your eyes not meeting;
Is it you that hath your self-confidence berated?
Or Is it Him, lessons on faith, teaching?
When you're free of every embarrassment,
In the whole duration that you're just with Him;
Can anybody ever match that sentiment?
Or Of His love, is this only the rim?
When you're spent and angry within yourself,
Saying your affirmations in attempted meditation;
Are the words you write, the magical elf?
Or Is it His unconditional affection, His devotion?
When your calm returns, the happiness in you flowing,
Having lived in mere moments, lifetimes full of peace;
Is it the effect of your time alone with you showing?
Or Did He, for you, time seize?
When the right words, stories, articles and people,
Coincidentally, into your path fall;
Is it you who designs this pattern, so simple?
Or Is it Him, up there, rolling the ball?
They say, the mind can make you believe,
Can dispel the myths you don't care for;
Would you say, miracles, our hearts, relieve?
Or Would you still think you're unsure?
When there's confusion- nibbling, eating,
Chewing and exploding in your mind;
Would you, out of faith, in His lap, be resting?
Or Would you let uncertainty be your find?