A new sonnet based off of one of the first poems I wrote.

Light is information without a clear

message. God's mercy is learning love.

What is manifest is to accuse fear.

Yet there is peace resting as a dove.

 

On the last day, compressing us all down.

In his hands we are made complete.

In His praise is the glory we're bound.

For the carpenters is the crown of kings.

 

He made the universe (a purpose) to

mend a shirt. Without needle or thread.

To bring forward things for life to learn.

Simple stitches were the words he said.

 

 

Without him we will always long in need.

But through his word he makes us complete.