There's a ripple in the stratosphere
of undemanding attention

Creaking slowly across the floorboards
of consciousness and breaking down
wooden doors of inhibition.

Never has the lonely animal
sat so silently, secretly shushing
servant saints.

Window pains of repression
allow silent searches of what life looks like outside
but the windows remain unbroken.

Forever letting
people treat me
like I'm inadequate.
I don't feel right
in this skin.

It seems when I truly start to doubt
There is a god, something whispers, no shouts
At me to look to the miracle of nature to see Him
It stared with a morning bike ride on a whim
The fluffy white clouds that dotted the crystal blue sky
Urged me to go for a Sunday morning bike ride
It began in on an ordinary, familiar trail
Water, glasses, computer, kit, and pull the bike off the rail
As I pedaled along, I felt Him in the breeze
I saw Him in each glimmering leaf suspended in a choir of trees
The rustle of the foliage harmonized with the birds
Creating a hymnal of music that filled my soul with each word
It became abundantly clear that I was in God's community
Nature spoke His words and delivered His truth to me