His Voice

My friend Jason is hosting "Warrior Poet Circle" today. The theme is "Voice of God."    It seems strange to be to join, like I'm hoarding in on a party I don't belong at, since I feel like neither a warrior or a poet.  Yet we are are told to dress ourselves as warriors and be prepared,  and I can't remember when I didn't love reading poetry (at least if you count Nursery Rhymes).  I was in second grade the first time I tried to write a poem.  It was awful!  My teacher liked it though.  Having been a second grade teacher myself,  I know why she liked it.  She liked it because she liked me.

So anyway, here we are with a short poem.


Softly whispered comfort as I try to hang on to things that slip away.
Gentle commands to guide me through the labyrinths in which I find myself trapped.
Silent lullabies sung to my weary soul.
Is that really Him?
Wouldn't the voice Inifinity boom?
No.  Not when speaking to one He calls "Daughter."