God and The Skeptic

She is a child of Glory

She is
a child of glory.

I met a stranger named Your God between my thoughts. Interested in his presence, intimidated by his brief existence, I asked him your story.

I created her, he said.

How? I asked.

First, I gave her beauty.
Her skin like a South African Queen.
Her smile inspires, motivates, and antagonizes anxiety, fear, and sorrow.
Those eyes are holistic.
Curing the greatest illness; loneliness.
Fall upon them for hours at a time, if you may.
Allow them to cleanse you.
She is curved to perfection. Grip her hips if you dare. Sensations of floating will overwhelming you.
Taste her hot beauty. The tiniest of droplets will inspired a flood. Contain yourself, or don't.

Secondly, I gave her wisdom, He said.
She is wise, wise like the hands of your mother. She does it all without doing. She will lead and follow her Queen, she will develops princes and princesses, she will mother mothers, she will mother queendoms with the wisdom of many lives.

Thirdly, I gave her humor.

Oh?

I left your love back there.

...Where?

The stranger chuckled.

I did not.

Lastly, I gave her balance. Similar to the seasons. She is not perfect. As she will bring you joy, she will bring you pain.

Like the sharp demanding chill of a Wisconsin winter's kiss, stinging your face as you fly 10 miles per hour down your favorite slope.

Like the summer waves throwing you off your board, you might drown, but you may not.

Like the floods of spring, dissolving your foundation leaving you uneasy, uprooted, anxious. However, later revealing a new bed of hope. A new beginning.

Like the tedious fall. Your acres covered in brilliant leaves, you must work. Once you've racked all the leaves, more will fall. You must work.

I created her, she is my substantial promise. 

Hmm...

You are skeptical.

Stranger, I am angry, you gave her beauty, you gave her wisdom, you gave her humor, you gave her balance. This is all evident, That is all well and shit, but you missed love? Please tell me you gave her love thy stranger?!

What is wise? What is beautiful? what is hilarious? What is balanced? What causes you pain in the most joyous way like the sled? What smacks you under the tide just as you thought you nail it? What overwhelms you dissolving everything you've once agreed to as the truth like the flood? What is beautiful enough to sacrifice, as I do now? What is worth working for day in and day out?

She is, I said.

She is, he confirmed. She is Love.

She is Love, I agreed. Why are you here?

Dear skeptic, you use my name in vain. You teach others my errors. You have spent days and nights questioning my children, shaming my lovers, disproving my ideas. I am here, to give you my gift.

Gift?

She is my gift to you.

Are you trying to win me?

The stranger disappeared above the catalyst of emotions he had inspired, I tried to screamed out thank you as loud as I could. He did not hear me, but she will.