Psalm 4
In the heavens a trumpet sounded
and you were conceived
God said, "It is good".
In that tiny seed nestled in your mother's womb
Your unique blueprint
Created by your heavenly Father,
was there.
All the grace and elegance and intelligence,
your sense of humor,
your kind heart;
manifesting in the twitches and twitters
of your growing body,
was soon to be made known to the world.
From the darkness to the light
you were born
Sounds from the heavens came;
this time the choirs of angels.
The fruit of God's great love
took her first breath.
You grew, got up, stumbled
and got up again
learning the ways of this world.
In the season of changing from a girl
to a woman
The heavens echo you're unique song.
Can you hear?
Listen carefully my child,
For even now God's still voice is
whispering
All that he has planned for you.
It's not easy going from a bud to a rose--
new sensations and feelings
wake up the soul.
In a blink of an eye,
there you will be looking in the mirror
face to face with the masterpiece
that is you.
There will be bumps in the road,
but if you listen for your Father's voice
you will be
who you are meant to be.
See, there in your reflection, deep within
your eyes and just around the corner of your mouth
when you smile?*
You are the glorious creation of the
Grand Architect.
The same One that created everything from
stars whose shout
you can hear from the rooftops,
to the wet nose of a puppy
snuggling in the crook of your arm;
made you.
So, if ever you feel the least bit blue
stop a minute
and see yourself the way God sees you.
For God said, "I know every hair on your head" **
That's what a meticulous artist He is.
*2 Cornithians 3:18 But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.
**Matthew 10:29-31: 29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. 30 And even the hairs of your head are all counted. 31 So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.
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Miguela Holt y Roybal
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Comments
Thank you for your poem. Your artwork is very nice.