The Stuff of Life

 

We contain the stuff of stars,

Furnaces of the elements,

Spoken into reality,

By God from the start.

He breathed life into us,

While setting galaxies in motion,

For passion is the beginning,

Of what is born from the heart.

For our passion creates ideas,

Which we speak into existence,

And through our sweat with others,

Those spoken words are made real.

How much more is God?

Whose spoken words are perfect,

Making reality without effort,

Comprising all we see and feel.

For all we see is made of energy,

As are the thoughts we think,

As are the words we speak,

Shaping a mind in the womb,

Expanding the mind’s capabilities,

Delivering curiosities and interests,

Before the baby is delivered,

While each child shares DNA and more,

Becoming part of the mother,

So after so many generations,

We are truly part of each other.

And so here we are,

Made up of tiny atoms,

Which are particles holding hands,

Across the gulf of space.

From the fire God breathed out,

Setting the universe in motion,

Breathing life into existence,

We each return to touch His face.

Meanwhile we modify energies,

To bring good things into reality,

Adding to the beauty of life,

Beneath the stars above,

Because we are made of energy,

The word of God is energy,

As the words we speak have power,

And the greatest power is love.

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Life in Perspective

 

For when you feel alone.

Imagine a reality,

Where there are millions of stars,

Fusing elements as fuel,

Creating building blocks of reality,

Stars fuse carbon into oxygen,

Or detonate producing gold,

Yet He created each and every star,

Knowing all of their names,

And he stopped to take the time,

To know the beauty of your eyes.

There are planets with rings of ice,

Like crowns upon eternal queens,

There are moons with polymer rains,

Raindrops as big as golf balls,

Falling slowly like snow,

He knows each and every place,

Where ocean waves thunder underground,

Or lightning streaks through acid clouds,

Yet every pain you feel,

Is felt upon his heart.

Drivers stream by on the roads,

Chasing matters of consequence,

Too fast to see the birds in the trees,

To fast to hear the stories of others,

Dozens of homes hiding faces and souls,

Laughter or pain they cannot imagine,

Yet He sees the song of your life,

Music like colors before His eyes,

And when you feel you are most alone,

You are still held in His arms.

Standing on the border of infinity,

One may look out across forever,

For only the heart can truly see,

Perceiving that time is just an illusion,

Created by the blindness of our eyes,

So seeing a bird in flight,

Becomes a miraculous vision,

Yet in all of this and more,

What is most important to Him,

Is you.

by Eric Visconti - Poet

Exploring Life

“Words are the beginning of every journey.”

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The Hand of Light

 

-Inspired by Commander Cernan’s observations of light from space.-

 

Light is an invisible thing,

Traveling through space,

Unseen by the eye,

Flowing from a brilliant source,

Yet everything it touches,

Whether solid or gas,

Responds in full color,

When light comes to pass.

Everything with warmth,

Sheds photons of light,

Returning energy received,

Like musicians in an orchestra,

With notes combining within us,

In wonderful colors of sound,

Creating music in every sunset,

Before night blankets the ground.

And so light is shaped,

By the hearts of living things,

As light touches our souls,

Both in particles and waves,

Being shaped by our actions,

Reflecting an image of our hearts,

Projecting who we are upon time,

Through the hand of light we impart.