Sounds Of The Thunder

I come to you in times of despair again, My Lord,
My holy spirit climbs this ladder of anxiety of some sort.
My mind sees the magic and wilfully lets my vision distort,
Derive this meaning to my ever-strong hold, a remedy to now resort.

Peace, you have given me all my life, and happiness some,
I praise your soul for what highness it shines, whatever may come,
A body I can’t see your’s doesn’t exist, your songs I hum,
Write you in my words, pen down in-front a mirror, to divinity I succumb.

I sit on stairs of our holy abode, rest a while, ponder,
This time, what have my soul come to beg of you, I wonder;
Another step I climb, rest again, I ask for some help again, I’m under,
You give me answers in your tunes, chills sent down my spine with the way you hand me your thunder.

Content, I start to walk back home, your mercy and my faith ignited,
Your rain now, masks my teary smile of bountiful sparkle aura, homewards headed;
Look at the words I write of you, find I these gems that carved me, and stayed connected,
My gratitude enough to engulf multitudes of galaxies, a new faith in me now resurrected.

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