~By Stephen Blackwood
Maker of many masks,
Lives without one.
He changes his forms,
To be there for everyone.
He is the light of the morning,
He is the wail of the mourners.
He is the laughter of our kids,
He is the one, who watches our deeds.
He shakes our lives with the quakes,
He showers the burnt with snowy flakes.
He is the thunder, before it rains.
He is the blood that drifts through our veins.
He is in us, living, breathing beings,
He is in the dirt, the rocks & the tiniest of the things.
He is the eagle that conquers the sky,
He is the voice of our silent cry.
He is the thing that links us,
Breaks us, lifts us, lays us low.
He is in the fake smiles that sometimes we show,
& also the genuine ones that makes us glow.
He is our past haunting our present,
He is the present our future promises.
He is the harmony by which the universe moves,
He is in our instincts & everyday moves.
He is in everything, all that we know.
He is in everything, all that we don’t.
Wherever you go, he’ll be always there.
But still if you try, he’ll be hardest to discover.