The Spark

God, look at him, just standing there,
I see it in oak eyes, the flare,
That boldly glints, reflects your light,
And lets him see with wizened sight,
Lord hear him as he prays to you,
And thanks you for the things you do,
He praises first, before he’d let,
The prides kick in, that always set,
And ever if he makes mistakes,
Apologies from him will shake,
He won’t accept the thanks, he says,
It’s God to thank, for all his ways,
I thank you now, all I can do,
And every thanks of mine to you,
When he sees me and smiles and cares,
His faith hits me like glowing flares,
And catches me on fire inside,
You tell me clearly not to hide,
Through him, you tell me things I need,
Through him, you taught me how to plead,
Sometimes he might not see it though,
The things he says, they sink in slow,
And linger there, inspire me,
And this is how you make me free,
Lord he’s not quite aware of how,
He touched me then and does it now,
Impatience grabs my mind sometimes,
Frustration pulls a frown sometimes,
But look at him, serenity,
Tall and familiar, next to me,
Bright and handsome, inside and out,
Look at him, there is no doubt,
He studies hills of distant light,
And thanks you for the pretty sight,
This precious, golden gift from you,
For whomever you will send him to,
Right now, dear Lord, you’ve placed him here,
I thank you that he is so near,
And like electrons you can pass,
And etch into my heart and last.