The Designer

from now i would call him the Designer, not God because that leads to too much struggle and fight to pin down who he really is the Designer drives the world and this physique working it l ike he works the stars, the constellations, harnessing them since the day he started them all you dont have to believe you dont have to disbelieve you just need to sit down to feel the space blasting in you, the cells renewing themselves like stars throwing its light and another world to us the flowers budding to give us another world, of spring, of hope, each cell propelled by a divine force, unfolding a painting the shades and shapes of the promise of a paradise the hill gives a path to the feet of the water so that it can beat a step in triumph to the river, to the sea and the lake the water grows wings too all the way to the sky so that it continues the cycle of the Designer in his love of life, life, life some blasting away a million trillion miles away, some resting in venues so close you you cannot even hear them - the way catfish dozes off in its secret crevice, the way your heart pump right in the centre of your frame