Poetry

When mere moments are holy,
when in prayer I go to You
I am surrounded by Your presence
then I see in every flower, in each small thing
even in the stars, sun and moon
that there is of You a kind of witness,
 
thunderbolts falling blue-white,
the wild untamed stormy wind,
trees that flower in spring,
tells me that You care about my destiny
and that You choose me out as a child
of the almighty Lord of the universe.