I haven't seen Christ but I speak to Him. He forgives my sins. He reads in my eyes why I spill my ink. I am a beggar in a moonlit street. I'm an astronaut in my spaceship. I will not be able to reach Him. I whisper Jesus and He hears me.
My prayers unwrap my days wrapped in mist. The sunshine I see is Jesus's gift. Nobody's pain can be worse than His. The hammered nails tore His bones and skin. He didn't die so that He could heal. He knows who is ill.
His remedies are the seasons I can see. I don't feel my spacecraft's speed. I am either a leaf or a seed. I am a beggar or an astronaut born to live.