Converted by the eyes of every man, every women, every soul. Not one. He is neither soul nor blood, not spirit, but all that is combined into a single entity. Converted by my own eyes, consoled by His. Father: to be the sky which I look up to in awe yet cannot ever touch that which is shown to me. Son: this is my foundation. The ground that I walk on, felt in hand, sought out in wisdom. Sight, Touch, to really know. The Spirit: Holy in all ways, it is the wind. The air, and that which revives me. With each breath I take It in. Converted, I am made anew.