Granted tools, toys of joy,
And love written from within;
They’d write like Leo Tolstoy,
The diabolic to destroy.
Yet some come seeking magic,
A power to be harnessed,
To yield and be dramatic,
For the follower and fanatic.
But everywhere and at all times,
I’m pursuing you in great haste,
Quick to forgive all your crimes,
To speak with you in verse and rhymes.
Look and look again,
With no start and no end,
Fix your gaze upon my reign:
Sea, sky, and terrain.
If only one would love,
Seek no further and sit
Before the Sacrament of Love;
Receive the gift of grace above.
Gary Edward Geraci