Unseen Hand: You Are Worthy

Fetal-curled in the corner of your room, you wail,
Want to bail your way out of life so rife with pain;
But there is an ear that hears, my dear, and an eye
That spies your body shaking and quaking with fear;
An unseen hand brushing gently that strand of hair
Hanging loosely down your face so smeared with tears.
There is a voice whispering gently a better choice,
And arms to hold from harm, so bold and comforting,
Adorning you with grace; there is much more in store
For you, for you are precious, and the night is new.
There is an omen what casts the gnomon for dreams
Of sun at noon time in your heart for aesthetic part
Of beauty so unique in mystique, not weak, oblique;
In fascination you were born, infatuation of angels,
Incarnation of divine creativity, ovation of creation;
You were conceived in God’s own womb ere you were born
To scorn of world cruel, with drool of dæmonic ghoul,
Who would fool you with his trope that tis no hope,
And have you crying neath his lying rather than flying
Up into celestial realms where is your home and tome
Of your life so grand and magnificent; so now stand
And be confident and free! This is not the end, no!
But now transcend false care, for you will well-fare
On your feet square; strong, straight back and no lack
Of might and clear, bright sight, for you are yourself,
And there is the unseen hand ere to help you withstand
… and eye that sees, and ear that hears …

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