All You are, I cannot relate.
You are in the moment before pen meets page.
You have given me the pen, the page,
and the mind to pour You onto this canvas.
Your image I fail to capture.
You are beyond all of my fumbling prose.
The praise I strive to express is found
under my words, behind my letters.
In the space between this word and the next
are all of the things I long to sing, praise, and shout
to Heaven…to the world around me!
In that space, You are free to exist as You are:
Indescribable, untamable, unstained by the
blackness of my ink.
I long to dwell in that space.
So, I will build a ladder of words
(each letter to give You praise)
until you lift me up from my
Tower of Babel.
When I join You in that space,
the unknowable and mysterious,
I will see the face that I sought
through my words.
Then, my heart will be loosed to replace the pen,
and I will know that I was the canvas,
and You, the author of my life.
by Alyssa Carlburg