The canvas awakens my morning eyes.
Truth swirled into this moment of time with purpose.
Hues my eyes cannot fully define.
One glance and my spirit dances--free.
I pause as the relevant graces the page.
Taking it in slow, I encamp over His word.
It whispers my name.
It's here, I'm known.
This quiet moment created for me,
Or maybe I for this moment,
To behold the glory and splendor--speechless.
It enters my marrow. It alters my plans.
Given to all who seek.
As bread it feeds my soul-hunger.
As water it quenches the dry.
The Creator holds the paintbrush.
His love drips from the bristles, crimson red,
In fierce pursuit of my wayward heart.
Bringing it home...
How has he proven his word to be priceless art in your own life?