The unseen hand

THE UNSEEN HAND

The sun beats down on

old familiar adjective street

Later the moon showed-off it’s roundness

scaring away all clouds

by arrangement with the weather

Starry starry night so oft referred to

in painting, poem, and song

All on the back-cloth of that blue

That blue from dark outer value

to cobalt hue near the light

That’s the blue – memories are made of

That’s the blue that in partnership

with fresh air and approaching spring

galvanises the senses in smell, sight 

sound and touch

in impressionable youth

when emotions are fixed for good

It’s that night of sensing weather

that repeats the memory

for years

on it’s return

The essence of human emotion

when the experience of

similar landscape

hints at the eternal

when all is well – with feelings of safety

and just being young and interested

in all that is about us –

in activities-engagement

of one kind or another.

In moments – just moments

God placed His hand

Just to say: ‘I’m still here’

And I mistook it for enjoyment of life

in those things He had made

Like young Samuel I could hear

But I didn’t know

He stayed knocking

Until one more winter arrived

This time

with spiritual surprise

The inner storm of conflict

Passed

And eternal peace was inherited

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