G-d is the breath within every breath,
the silence between heartbeats,
the whisper beneath thoughts,
the infinite unfolding of moments
that were, that are, and that might yet be.
G-d is the flame within fire,
the liquid inside every drop of rain,
the depth beneath oceans,
the light behind all stars,
the darkness between galaxies—
an endless expanse, vast beyond vastness,
and still,
closer than closeness itself.
G-d is everything
that words cannot hold—
the holiness so profound,
so absolute,
it breaks language,
shatters meaning,
exceeds the edge of every possibility—
yet gently fits inside the smallest atom
and quietly waits within every sigh,
every joy,
every sorrow,
every fragment of existence
you ever tried to grasp.
G-d is the unknowable
known intimately,
the impossible
holding possibility,
the unseen
within everything you see—
the sacred paradox
of every particle
dancing in eternity,
the hidden presence
that was before beginnings
and will be beyond endings,
and even then,
beyond the beyond itself.
G-d is
what it means
to mean,
to be,
to wonder,
to seek,
and ultimately,
to surrender—
to the awe of a concept
more holy than holiness,
more infinite than infinity,
more real
than reality itself.
G-d,
in short,
is everything,
and even more
than everything
could ever dream
to be.
G-d is the curl at the corner of every smile,
the hidden warmth behind laughter's echo,
the tremble in voices daring to speak,
the sigh trapped within quiet goodbyes;
He's even the pause before punchlines land,
the secret behind every magician's hand,
the invisible thread sewing fate together,
a holy wink tucked in ordinary weather—
He's all of this magic, subtle yet clear,
yet somehow,
I still can't seem to find Him here.
