Angel Romp Poem by Cheryl Lavender

Fluffy white, pillowy soft,
The clouds angels joyfully romp upon.
The hand of God, the Artist's touch,
Initiates creation into finite view.

Sun of fire, Son of God,
The blazing inferno breeching the soul.
Enticed to reach, provoked to remain,
I close my eyes to comprehend His refrain.

Majestic explosion, in peacock array,
Impotent to grasp the Glory within.
The birds soar by, in effortless protrusion,
Celebrating the expanse of His Kingdom to come.

Between the clouds, encompassed by the wind,
I find my heart bound by the grace of Him.
Will I ever know? Can my life innately expose,
the magnitude, radiance and grandeur of 'The Great I Am'?

A glimpse of time, a passing glance to find,
Did I see the Glory that exhilarates my life?
In turning around, in living retrospect,
Do I miss the lessons He died to contend?

Copyright © 1993 by Cheryl A. Lavender