the Created

Wait in anticipation.
Ready at a single utterance.

To rise up.
To move.
To fall still.
To quieten.
To catch fire.

Our watery, salty, gritty, burning eyes search for Him everywhere.
We wait in hopes He will choose us.

To demonstrate His power.
To protect the ones He loves.
To serve His purpose.

All it takes is a soft word.
From Him.
Or from one who loves Him.

And our foundations shift.
Our molecules transform.
Our waves decrease.

Just one word.
Spoken out of authority.
Or one word full of faith in that authority.

We are anxious to do His will.
We crave His bending low.
The kiss of the wind - the wind that blows when we ask Him to come near.

We will hover, poised in the sky.
Our swollen flesh will burst open and pour out rain.
We were created to do His bidding.
To exist in pregnant anticipation.
Expecting Him to command.

Bid us, Creator.
Command us, Your creation.

To crumble our foundations.
To carry Your son.
To roll away.
To rise in the morning.
To be still.
To bear fruit.

For You, we wait.