Praise Him Through the Storm
Slowly and silently, keeping time with the raindrops
I open my petals to whisper a soft, sweet melody
Of insight into the Creator’s inspiration for my purity
My life’s blood is streaked with clarity and compassion
Coloring me in hues of crimson, amber and lemon yellow
Daily, I open each trembling flower to a delicate sunlight
Enlightening the dawn with a beautiful array of enchantment
Breathing whimsical order in the fashion of petals that grace
Each spectator with feelings of appreciation for my powerful
Presence, my fragility shadowed with dreams and passions
Graciously, I lift up my head toward the morning rainstorm
Feeling drenching showers pour across my spirit’s essence
Creating a melancholy that breeds illuminations of sorrow
Which soon turns into a sweet harbinger of tomorrow’s glory
Delicious sentiments of what will soon be the praise of God
Applauding Him with my fingers of illusive discernments
Honoring Him with my faint hints of vitality in emotion
Acclaiming Him as the world’s most glorious designer
Admiring Him for all that He’s given to His creation
Praising Him with every part of my peaceful spirit, eternally.
I am the flower that rises above my loss of life and limb
To the joy of knowing that through existing I am filled with
Compassion and praise that fills up this dismal land called earth
With true expressions of kindness and charity that is known
To be the way to God’s heart, where I hope to always go!
The Flower, The Thorn Or Both Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
July 6, 2020
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