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I came to draw You,
and with my own eyes,
You painted all the cosmos between us,
and then You opened my eyes,
and with the illusion of vision,
I imagined myself, imagining You.
You, Who we cannot see,
You, who requires us to be seen.
Every leaf in flight,
a finger of the invisible wind,
a metaphor to be interpreted.
We follow the invisible through it effects.
I encompass You,
Yet You are hidden within me.
A universe of beauty
slipped through my eyes
a parsec in a fraction of a second,
I dare not blink.
The less I know,
the more I know,
the more I long.
