Lost

Walking under trees,

Spouting off something about how you believe

That God exists in every leaf

That blows through your flowing hair.

When you're wondering how on earth I could feel

Like nothing up above created anything

Or that there's no miracles in a blade of grass.

And that that branch that rubs on the window

Is nothing more than a nuisance,

And not some bigger part of a greater design

Of a failed world, losing its sustainability for life.

But we can walk a little further and
I'll let you tell me about how He puts the clouds

In just the right place

So that I can see myself in your eyes,

Because, anymore, that's all I'm looking for.