You are the God of all stuff
from fluff to tough skin,
from fins to swimming,
You are the God of skid row,
forever running but never running out.
You are my house,
You swoon with the moon’s wane,
You created the horse’s mane,
You sow the forgotten field
that no one sees
with flowers that no one needs.
No tower stands but by your hand,
no king rules without your land.
You are woven in strings too small to see,
You are the tapestry inside of me.
I magnify you, Lord, but not really.
the God of flowers that no one needs
a poem by troy cady