Friday, February 11, 2011
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.
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