Words, sonnets, and songs stick in my throat like glue
The feelings I posses must be proclaimed, but a way with words I do not have, and the way in which my words flow lack a certain… sophistication.

The images within desperately cry for an escape, but my unskilled strokes with a brush, a pen, even a pencil fail to capture images that try and take shape.  

Emotions welling up from the depths of my soul yearn for release yet I find no outlet for everything I feel, I see, and I think,
please, let this cease…

You might have gathered all this was to impress someone,
but I realized the father I was trying to impress, he was not like other father figures I had clung to.
You see my true father resides in heaven, and he,
He does not require grand gestures of love.
I came to realize that He just wanted to know me,
and talk with me
and surprisingly
He just wanted to love me.

At this, incomprehensible words of love spilled from my lips and to my astonishment the Holy Spirit, which I forgot to even ask how to express my feelings, lifted them up as if each syllable had wings,
and Jesus whom I also forgot,
His blood was before me,
and when my words rested upon my fathers ears they were sweet,
as if they were spoken from the lamb of God himself.