Why
do you love us so much

The one
Who spoke existence into existence
Was thinking of you
Us

Little us

Before
Beginnings even began

Look at you!
You can't even fathom it
Begin to imagine
The love that was lavished

On you

They say we drown
In this love
Like in an ocean

How?

You drown in oceans
Because oceans have depth
length and width
A surface to which
One may come to draw breath again

You can't drown

In an ocean
So vast
It ran through your future
In your past

Before there were even paths
To run through

All of infinity
Was trailblazed by love for you

There is no air to go to
In this ocean

Why

Are we
But dust in the sky
Worth lashes in your side?

Worth

The glance
To even be considered
The apple of your eye

When you
Place in us your breath
The normal pattern of life to death
Can't help but go from death to life

For death is an ending
But you are our everlasting beginning

Made to rise by your
Resurrection

God
You are so much perfection
That making us a mere reflection
Makes us diamonds

Your deep seated treasure trove of words on love
layeth at the throne and is sealed in a crystal case,
meant to be broken in case
there is an a famish in the kingdoms,
an unquenching,
an unending,
an unfading
hunger for love.
The haybarn of mild prosperity.
It transitions with frequencies
ranging from the cosmic dimesions of the galaxies
to the unforgiving, mauve depths of the ocean.
It resonates with my ambivalent soul,
at an existential level
as thy velveteen buds
are of my photvoltaic stem.

First light, and
a chill mist.
Low bird calls.
Small and quiet,
the eldest child
zips her way
out of the tent.

Gathering
wildflowers,
she sips a bit
of mountain
water.
Reaching
up, she  
offers
her flowers
into the
crook of
a plain tree,
bowing down.

I needed something profound
and you showed me a sunken ship
the depths of which I had never known
but that is so like you
shining other people's lights
for me to see the way

I stand in it:
The streets
The people
The face-blurring
shoe-smacking
heart-knocking
symphony of thousands,
full and explosive as
a swarm of grenades

and I am
overwhelmed, overwhelmed,
by the divinity of
our overlap

I met a man in church today, with hair so grey and eyes so old,
I thought to myself "If heaven had secrets, surely this man would know."
We talked for a while, and he spouted wisdom like a stream,
and I pondered what his cryptic advice might mean,
and we left together, out the gilded double doors of the church.

It was cold that day, but the birds still sang, and he remarked that it was so.
He mumbled to himself what would seem ordinary if I did not know
to look for more within his words, and ponder what I had the fortune to hear.
I thought long and hard, until I saw a sight that made it at once so clear.

I met a holy man in church today, and when we left Heaven for the earth below,
the genius opened the wide and gilded double doors, and ****** into the snow.

Someday soon we will be passing praise instead of judgment

© Matthew Harlovic

Grand old mountain,
Bearded in cloud  .  .  .
Rushmore to the Gods.