Glory to the Christ for my poetic existence
Glory to the Christ for my poetic resistance
Glory to the Christ for my poetic persistence

When high celestials call me a vortex of stars
Pink heavens rain on me like vernal brume in a morn
Bathed in petite waterfalls of grace,
Fluttering raincoat in sweet petrichor, I dance
   to the music from above
   to the Romance and Romanesque of ethers existential
   A symbol of zeitgeist potential

This life! This life! What a glamorous life!
I see your fingerprints everywhere
And I miss you without ever seeing you

Like a farm boy fluting harmonica on the waves of yellow reeds
I planted vines along a galactic string of beads
Sailing across the big night sky
Under the churning stars
Where I'd calmly call myself
A possibility beyond scars

These pines, my gothic arches
"You are my secret weapon," the Poet said
Like the sound of pencil scribbling on a sketchbook
Like the ritualistic depth of coffee in the morn
A day is a blessing
My life is a grace
Gratitude to the Lord Jesus Christ the Son of God!

Glory to the Christ for my poetic existence
Glory to the Christ for my poetic resistance
Glory to the Christ for my poetic persistence