What man has written man may read;
But God fills every root and seed
With cryptic words, too strangely set
For mortals to decipher yet.
By Elece Hollis
The language of God
Who can read? Words not in speech.
But in notes of song,
Drifting––riding on a warm breeze.
Words like flute notes from a wooden pipe,
High and bright and sweet.
Words like rain falling softly
Like a shaft of golden sunshine,
Like honey and fruits,
Like tree sap and honeysuckle tea.
Words in code that speak always and ever
The same line of poetry from the Maker's heart
You are mine.
I love you.
I always will.