Fingers of God~

You crafted us beautifully,
able to be shaken
but if we run back to the heart
we will find stability.

Though he promised
he would be my angel
I saw him leave,
for another rusting dream.

Even though my wing
has been seared by war,
I know love won't compete
it already holds truth.

Through my ripped flesh
I find tiny muse to breathe in-
the essence of something greater,
something that cannot be torn.

And you remind me
the strength of God is alive in me.

Within all.