Suppose vanity exults creation
Capture the moment.
Worship the image
As possessing life.
Gaze on the ship in the bottle,
Devoid of wonder.
Just big enough to drink in,
Merely a sip by comparison
To the soul setting upon the sea
To catch the Wind in its sails
To be carried aloft
In hallowed abandonment.
Vanity thanks its fortune,
And prostrates itself
Before its stars.
No One to thank
No One due worship.
Just another ship in a bottle.
Taking on water
And disappearing ‘neath
Contemplating the form of things,
Playing with beauty,
As though creating it anew.
A kaleidoscope of folly
Spills on the worldly canvas.
All the while,
God shines forth in His creation,
Only the willful blind fail to see.
Preferring a world of mirrors
To the light and splendor of Truth.
Night and day, I dream of heaven.
O, not the dream that slumber brings,
that mirage that is tortuous,
with struggles and comings and goings,
jumbles and journeys
taking me far, far from home.
No, I speak now of the dream of my heart.
I dream of heaven, the cry of my heart.
With longing and yearning and surety of soul,
I labor in love for a home that I know.
Through all life’s long journey,
my days are replete
with a pilgrim’s desire,
that sheds light ‘to my feet.
Though weary, and broken, I no longer doubt,
That all heaven is waiting to welcome with shout,
one miserable sinner, it can’t do without.
By Joann Nelander