Stolen Breaths


The moon glows full, bright, outside my window.

Thoughts of wonder sparked.

Questions surface from a grateful heart.

How often rushing past, breath unstolen?

Without pausing, awestruck?

What secrets those wonders might reveal.

What truths might God whisper?

Hearts unprepared, rushed.

Mysteries remain unseen.

Painted sunset, streaks of yellow, pink, orange, purple, red splash against sky.

Art, given by creator, so often unnoticed.

Rustling winds, mountains pasteled in Autumn colors,

Waves lap along stone cliffs. Jagged snow laden peaks.

He paints. He speaks.

Slowing, gazing, listening.

What of worth can I offer for the art I see?

Breaths stolen by the Creator’s canvas.

Priceless creations of only glimpses I see.

Able only to offer amidst the grace.

With only a heart of gratitude can I pay.


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Copyright © 2023 Amy Nabors.