Divine Instrument of the Soul

In the silence, I feel it stir, a spark within my fingertips a gentle nudging, a whispered promise, to bring forth the unseen the hand, a vessel, a sacred tool, a bridge between the heart and mind a God-given gift, to shape and mold, the whispers of the divine With every stroke, a world unfolds, a tapestry of emotions, thoughts, and dreams the hand dances, a faithful servant, to the rhythm of the heart's deep themes it weaves a narrative, a poetic spell, that transcends the mundane and the real a symphony of words, a harmony of soul, that echoes through the chambers of the heart In the stillness, I hear the voice, a gentle guiding, a loving nudge a reminder that the true poet, is the one who whispers in my ear, and stirs my soul God, the master weaver, guiding my hand, heart, and mind to craft a tale, that speaks of love, of hope, of life, and all its complexities entwined The mind, a canvas, a kaleidoscope, of colors, textures, and hues a realm of imagination, where the heart's deepest secrets, and desires, break through the hand, a brush, that paints the scene, with strokes of passion, and devotion true a dance of creativity, a waltz of words, that whispers secrets, only known to few In this sacred trinity, of hand, heart, and mind, I find my voice, my song, my prayer a poetic pilgrimage, guided by the divine, to craft a tale, that speaks of love, and all its beauty rare for in the silence, I hear the voice, that whispers truth, and sets my soul on fire and with each word, a world is born, a world that beats, with the rhythm of the heart's deepest desire