The King is my Father

A poem by Kemi

There’s no beginning to Your story
Galaxies in hand
Fully clothed in glory
Your brilliance declared by the land

What throne could contain but the heavens?
The Earth, a mere footstool
Existence outside of You stands in vain,
And yet You deeply love this fool

Misconceptions from earthly representations,
Threatened my perception
Rendered a cracked image, far from crystal clear
Only broken reflections

“Come to Me“, a soft whisper in the wind
You collect the fragments
Broken shards mended by torn flesh
A glue the brightest crimson red

Your hand which carries the depths of the earth
The very same cradles me
Your hand which measured the waters in its hollow
The very same cradles me

Big and gentle
Ruler and Shepherd
I can’t help but marvel
That the King, is my Father

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