Follow the scent
Silencing thought din in our head,
we shift into our heart instead,
granting strobes of bliss beats consent,
God’s touch about naught can be said.
Being blind, we follow the scent,
our faith held firm, will to God bent,
that soft rhythms of the universe,
words penned, love’s whispers represent.
Without any need to rehearse,
poised in repose we pen a verse,
with each flicker in space portrayed,
that the vast void we may traverse.
God Himself hastens to our aid,
that by mind we be not betrayed,
so therefore choosing to be still,
we sing songs our ego forbade.
Every time we pick up the quill,
auto-writing gives heart a thrill,
signalling we’re with God entwined,
Who makes easy ascent uphill.
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